Spookshow V: Half-Boys and Gypsy Girls, page 22
“It followed me this time. I came here to locate the source of the biggest psychic blip ever to flash across me radar.”
Mockler’s eyes went from the woman beside him to the man leaning against the Hi-Fi cabinet. “You mean Billie.”
“The demon trailed me here and, decided to have a little fun taking possession of a transient girl squatting in an abandoned tower block. By the time I found her, it was too late. The bastard had his teeth in her. Still, I tried to exorcise the scum, but I failed. Again. You know the rest of the story.”
Gantry looked away and the room grew quiet. Billie felt Mockler grow restless beside her, impatient and frustrated at what he had just heard. The detective hated this spooky stuff, this bizarre, nonsensical otherworld of the supernatural that had infested his life since the two of them had met. She didn’t blame him and wondered if there was a limit to his patience. Or his sanity.
She waited a moment before breaking the silence. “This thing. Does it have a name?”
“It has lots of names, most of which are unpronounceable. Or misleading.” Gantry retrieved the manila folder and flipped through the crime scene photos. He handed one across to her. “Its common name is Skratte.”
Billie held the photo up for Mockler to see. A close shot of a glyph carved into the victim’s flesh. “Skratte?”
“Old Scratch,” Gantry said, nodding at the photo. “That’s its mark there.”
“That’s the connection?” Mockler asked. “The people who abducted you and the victim in the woods. This demon thing?”
“They’re trying to summon it,” Billie concluded.
“Close,” Gantry said. “It’s already here. They’re trying to give it form.”
“Meaning what?”
“Its powers are constrained in this world, but, with a physical form, it can do so much more damage. That’s why it keeps possessing people, but the possession is too traumatic. It kills the person it inhabits.”
“But it keeps trying?”
“What else can it do? It’s either that or go back to where it came from. No, Old Scratch has had a taste of freedom. It wants more.”
Mockler turned the photographs over. “So, these people offered the victim for it to possess? Knowing it won’t last?”
“They must have found a way to solve that problem. Or they think they have. To keep the demon from killing its host.” Gantry shrugged. “That’s my guess.”
“Why Justin?” Billie asked. “Is there a link to the Murder House? Or Evelyn Bourdain?”
“Not directly. Justin’s involvement with Bourdain just made him vulnerable to the paranormal. These arseholes must have smelled it on him. Or they were keeping an eye on what happened at the Murder House.”
Mockler rose and crossed to the window that looked out on to the backyard. “What happens if it works? If these people give this thing a body that it won’t kill, what happens then?”
“Well,” Gantry grinned, “pardon the cliche, but, all hell breaks loose.”
Billie slid the gruesome photographs back into the folder, unable to look at them anymore. “That’s why they took you, wasn’t it? They knew about your history with this Scratch thing.”
“They had lots of questions about it. I didn’t put the two together at the time. I thought they were just fishing for anything they could find.”
“What did you tell them?” Mockler asked curtly.
Gantry growled. “Do we have to go through this again? I told them a bunch of malarkey.”
“Are you sure? Maybe there’s no coincidence here. They interrogate you, then they try and pull this demon trick?”
“Piss off, Mockler.” Gantry’s warned. “If I’d let something slip, I’d own up to it.”
Billie got to her feet, feeling the urge to move, to do something. She didn’t want to ask the obvious question but someone had to. “So, what do we do now?”
“The rest is straight-forward,” Gantry said, pulling the cigarette pack from his pocket. “I need to stop these arseholes before they do any real damage. You two just need to stay out of the way.”
“Sure.” Mockler shook his head. “You’re in great shape to take them all on.”
“We have even more urgent problems, kiddies,” Gantry huffed, tossing the crumpled pack onto the table. “I’m out of ciggies.”
Chapter 28
THE HOUSE SUDDENLY felt too stuffy, too claustrophobic and she needed some air. Standing under the bare porch light, Billie gazed out across the yard to the houses on the far side of the street. Two of the homes had Christmas lights strung under the eaves, twinkling away in their warm colours. It hadn’t even snowed yet, she thought. The air was cold, so she zipped up her coat against the chill. Maybe tonight would be the first snowfall. The first one was always kind of magical.
Magic, she thought. Black magic, the supernatural, the occult, witchcraft. The term ‘magical’ had lost all of its former innocuous meanings for her. How had it come to this? How could she have thought that she could block it all out?
A simple phone call had brought it all home. Kyle, of all people. While Mockler and Gantry argued over what to do next, her cell had gone off. Stepping into the kitchen to answer it, she was surprised to see the name of Kaitlin’s boyfriend in the display. She didn’t think Kyle even had her number.
“Kyle?” she said, answering it and imagining the worst. “What is it? Is Kaitlin okay?”
“No,” Kyle said over the line. “Kaitlin is not okay.”
Keep calm, Billie told herself. “Where is she?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue where she is, Billie.” His voice sounded odd, his words slow. “I hope you’re happy.”
He sounded drunk. Billie spoke slowly. “What happened, Kyle?”
“Can’t you guess? She dumped me. Was that your plan all along, Billie? Huh? To manipulate her? Well, it worked. Now, you can have her all to yourself.”
Billie hazarded a guess as to what transpired. “You two had a fight. I’m sure she didn’t mean it, Kyle. People say things when they’re mad.”
“Not this time. I just cleared my stuff out of the condo. She wasn’t mad or acting crazy. She just wanted me gone. So, I thought I’d call and say thanks a lot, you freak.”
She wasn’t in the mood for abuse. “Maybe we should talk when you’re sober, Kyle. Goodnight.”
“Wait!” he bellowed down the line. “Wait. Look, I didn’t even call about that. Why would I call about that? I don’t like you, Billie. Never did.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait! Shit.” He panted, as if he’d just returned from a jog. “You have to help her, Billie. Kaitlin’s all messed up and I fully blame you for putting all that stupid shit in her head, but you have to help her. She won’t listen to anyone else.”
There was another pause. Billie asked if he was still there.
“I’m here,” he slurred. “I’m not asking you to help me change her mind, but she hasn’t been the same since she got into this voodoo bullshit. She needs help, but, when she turned to you, you said you’d quit the whole thing. That’s not good enough. Kaitlin’s got her head all twisted up in this stuff. You need to help her with it now. You can’t just drop her like a hot potato.”
“I didn’t drop her,” she protested. “I—”
“Yes, you did! But no more. Go talk to her. Help her through this now, whatever it is.” There was a pause. His exhale sounded down the line, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked. “Listen, I’m not asking you to get Kaitlin to take me back. That’s finished. I just need you to help her because you’re the only one she’ll listen to. Please.”
The raw sincerity broke through the slur and it snapped something inside her. “I will. I’ll go see her right now.”
She heard a sigh that she took as relief and then the line went cold as he hung up. Billie scrolled through the numbers on her phone until Kaitlin’s name appeared. No, she thought. Don’t call to tell Kaitlin you’re on your way. Just show up. Kaitlin’s place was up on Stinson, ten blocks from Mockler’s house. At a brisk pace, she could walk it in 20 minutes.
The screen door creaked open. Mockler stepped out onto the porch. “I was wondering where you had disappeared to.”
“I needed some air.”
He came alongside her. “You okay?”
“I should have my head examined,” she said. The cold wind tussled her hair and she brushed it back behind her ear. “The stupid things I do.”
He waited a moment, thinking she had more to say, but Billie went quiet. “You have a bad habit of blaming yourself for everything. Why is that?”
“I am to blame. I screwed up again.” She folded her arms, feeling the cold settle in. “I thought I could shut off my abilities for good. To just be normal. How stupid of me.”
Mockler listened. He had seen her do this before, taking it inward. Sometimes dangerously so. In his experience, people fell into two camps when it came to accepting blame. Those who took it all on their shoulders and those who refused any part of it, shifting the blame to everyone but themselves. The woman beside him was in the former camp. “It’s not stupid, Billie. No one in her right mind would want that ability.”
“It was selfish of me, and other people paid the price for it.”
“Like who?”
“Kaitlin. I shut her out when she needed help. Gantry, too. If I hadn’t closed off when I did, I would have found him sooner.” The words spilt out of her, tripping faster as she listed them off. “Or these nutjobs who killed Justin. I would have picked up on them, too—”
“Stop.” He took her by the arms and turned her to face him. “You didn’t cause those things to happen. So, don’t play Monday morning quarterback about how it should have gone. All we can do is deal with what we have.”
Billie pressed her brow into his chest and let the words sink in. When she looked up, she said, “I need to see Kaitlin.”
“Okay. I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s not safe going alone,” he said. “Not with that weirdo assault team out there.”
“What about Gantry? Do you trust him alone in your house?”
“My house, no. He’d burn it to the ground just to amuse himself. But, if I tell him it’s gonna be our place, he’ll mind his manners because of you.”
She nodded. He was right, but the idea sat uneasily in her gut. Another unchecked box on her to-do list. “About that,” she said, inching closer to him. As if proximity would ease the bad news. “Ray, I can’t live here with you. I’m sorry.”
The shock played and vanished in his eyes. “Why not? We can change it around however you like, to make it more of yours. We can renovate.”
“It’s not that.” She slid her hands under his jacket and up his back. “It’s Christina. It’s her house. I know her stuff is all gone, but she’s still here. You two had a life in this house and nothing will change that. There’s echoes of her everywhere. I can’t live with her ghost.”
The light in his eyes snuffed out and, when he looked away, it almost broke her. “Hey,” she said. “Look at me. I want to be with you. Don’t misunderstand that. It’s just this house. It could never be home no matter how badly I wanted it to be. Tell me you understand that.”
“I get it,” he said. His gaze refocused on her. “Honest, I do. I’ll admit, I’d hoped you’d say yes, but I understand.”
“I’m sorry. I know you love this place.”
“It’s just a house.” He leaned in to kiss her. “I’m glad you were honest about it. That’s what matters.”
The screen door banged open and Gantry marched across the porch and down the steps.
“Whoa,” Mockler said. “Where are you going?”
Gantry turned, a sour look on his face. “Here I thought one of you nice people was running down the shop for me fags, but no, you’re out here getting all lovey-dovey while I’m suffering a nic fit. I’ll get ‘em meself, thank you very much!” He stormed off, flapping his coat.
“Come straight back and stay put,” Mockler hollered after him. “We’re going out.”
“Out?” the Englishman sputtered. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Sit quiet and don’t wreck anything.”
“Sod that,” Gantry bellowed as he stomped past the hedge to the street. “I’m helping myself to your booze and ordering some porn on the telly!”
Billie laughed. “You sure you don’t want to stay behind to babysit?”
“How much damage can he do?”
~
“Do you mind waiting here?” Billie asked as they pulled into the parking lot of Kaitlin’s building. “I need to talk to Kaitlin alone.”
“Okay.” Mockler scanned the street around them, east and west, as if looking for anything unusual. “But keep your phone handy.”
She darted inside and waved to the concierge on duty, whom she knew well. “Hey, Anton. I’m gonna surprise Kaitlin, okay?”
He waved her through and she took the grand staircase, running through what she was going to say to her friend. Approaching the door, she was about to knock when it flung open. Kaitlin stood there. “Hi,” she said.
“Did Anton buzz you?” Billie asked, confused.
“No, I just knew it was you. Come in.”
Kaitlin closed the door behind them and Billie quickly surveyed the loft space. It was usually spotless, but the tangle of blankets on the sofa and the mess on the coffee table had all the earmarks of a break-up. The wine glass, three big tea mugs, the empty ice cream container and the standard issue tissue box.
“Pretty cliché, huh?” Kaitlin shrugged at the mess.
“I heard. I’m sorry.” Billie turned to her friend. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be fine.” Kaitlin waved her forward and they both sunk into the sofa. “It’s for the best.”
“Is it really over? You two have been together since forever.”
“Too long,” Kaitlin said. “It probably should have happened a while ago, but I don’t think either of us wanted to face it. You know?”
“Sure.” Billie took a second look at the place. “Has Kyle moved out?”
“Not yet. He’s crashing at a friend’s house.”
“Friend? You don’t mean…”
“No,” Kaitlin said. “His buddy, Josh. You met him.” Kaitlin sighed, her eyes heavy. “I almost wish it was a ‘friend.’ That would almost make it easier to deal with.”
“I don’t think it would. It would just hurt in a different way.”
“I guess,” Kaitlin conceded. She gripped Billie’s wrist. “I’m glad you came.”
Billie chewed her lip. “I wanted to apologize for being a selfish bitch to you.”
“Selfish?” Kaitlin laughed. “That adjective doesn’t really apply to you.”
“I shoved you away when you needed help, Kaitlin. You can’t get much more selfish than that.”
“You had to. I know that now.”
“I shouldn’t have,” Billie said. “I’m sorry.”
“Water under the bridge,” Kaitlin replied. “Do you want something? I just opened this wine.”
The wine was poured. Billie settled back, watching her friend’s slow movements and drooping eyes. “Last time, you said you weren’t sleeping well. Bad dreams?”
“They never stop,” Kaitlin muttered, dejected and consigned. “Every night.”
“Your nightmares…are they about the Bourdain woman?”
Kaitlin nodded. “Her. Or being in that house. What it was like to feel her inside me, controlling me. It’s awful.”
“I still dream about her, too,” Billie conceded.
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s trauma. There’s going to be fallout from it. You can’t go through something like that without coming out damaged in some way.” Billie put her hand on Kaitlin’s knee. “But it can get better if you deal with it. Talk it through. We can do that together. You and me.”
Kaitlin smiled. “I thought you wanted to forget all of this.”
“I can’t, and there’s no sense in hiding from it. Monsters only thrive in the dark. Let’s drag it out into the light.” Billie sipped her wine. “We can talk it through, figure it out. It’s not like we have anyone else to talk to about this.” She raised her glass and they clinked them together in a toast.
The chime from the glass faded away and Billie’s face darkened as she thought back to the men who had stormed her apartment. Kaitlin knew nothing of that, but she was reluctant to go into it now. Her friend had enough to deal with at the moment.
“What is it?” Kaitlin asked. Billie demurred, but Kaitlin nudged her in the ribs. “Come on. We just agreed to work through this stuff, didn’t we? Out with it.”
“I have bad news,” Billie sighed. “Do you remember your ghost-hunter friend, Justin? He was murdered 10 days ago.”
Kaitlin went white. “What? How?”
“In some kind of occult ritual, in the woods near Crooks Hollow.” She saw the fear flaring hard in Kaitlin’s eyes. “It wasn’t the Bourdain woman. She’s gone. Someone else killed Justin.”
Kaitlin went silent, taking it in. When she spoke, her voice was hushed. “I felt it happen.”
“I thought you felt Owen in pain.”
“I did, but I felt Justin, too. Almost two weeks ago, I had a weird flash of him in pain. It was late at night. I thought it was just another nightmare.”
“What did you see?” Billie asked. “Or feel?”
“Pain and fear. Not just fear, terror. It was dark, but there were trees and it was cold. My hands were tied together.” Kaitlin shuddered, as if the memory chilled her. “That’s all I remember. Like I said, at the time, I thought it was another bad dream.”
Billie tucked her legs under her, mulling over Kaitlin’s account. “It wasn’t a nightmare. You’re an empath.”
“I thought that, too,” Kaitlin said. “But why those two? Why did I get an empathic flash from them? We were barely friends, and then they got possessed by Bourdain and tried to kill me.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was just the danger they were in. The pain. It was severe enough for you to sense it.” Billie set her glass down. “You’ve sensed when I was in trouble before.”
