The Accused and the Damned: Book Three, the Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 3) (14 page)

“Tell me you’ve got something,” Green said over the phone.

Eddie pulled into the dirt lot of the steak house. It was an old joint, probably had saw dust on the floor. “It’s pretty fucking thin, but I do. Good news: Mary Oliver was a natural lefty.”

Green laughed sardonically. “Eddie, I have to get a jury to believe that a ghost killed Alice. I have to tell them to turn off their rational brains to get them there. Then in the next breath, I’m going to point to forensic evidence and science to convince them of the mysticism? It’s harder than you think, speaking out of both sides of your mouth.”

Eddie slotted the car. Lawyers never liked anything you had to say. “Alright, Green. I’m going back over there tonight. Any developments at your end?”

“Hold on a minute. You’ve been gone all day and that’s all you’ve got for me?”

“I’ve got more but knowing you you won’t like it. So here’s the ten thousand foot view. I think Anson’s probably guilty. The only thing keeping me here is that primitive, childlike desire to understand what happened. We’ll probably never know. But I’m staying. I don’t have the whole picture and that’s bothering me and I want to see it before I give up on Anson. That probably makes me a damned fool. Now, I don’t feel like listening to you bitch and moan anymore today. So I’m gonna go eat a steak and try to talk myself out of this fool’s errand.”

Eddie killed the call and ignored the phone when Green called back.

The steakhouse was loud, saw dusty, smoky. The waitresses all wore tank tops and shorts that left nothing to the imagination. They all wore friendly smiles and they all had perfect hair and bleached white teeth and if there had been a film studio within two hundred miles they would have all been waiting for calls from their agents about the part they’d auditioned for. They were between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four and they made Eddie feel like a dirty old bastard.

The speakers blasted country music. Eddie had nothing against country, except when he was forced to listen to it. He asked the hostess for the quietest booth in the place and she deposited him in the far corner, away from the front door and the bar but close to the johns. Every time somebody opened the door, Eddie was treated to a view of some fella standing in front of a urinal.

The waitress came over and started telling him about the drink specials. Eddie waited politely for her to finish then asked for a water, straight-up. The joke didn’t register with the young lady. She just looked at him like he was trying to get in her pants and scurried away before he could tell her he was just kidding.

Eddie felt eyes on him and inventoried the bar. He didn’t see anybody he recognized, though he felt a stare or two shift away as his eyes roved.

The waitress came back and pretended to be angry. “Here’s your water. Straight up.”

He winked at her. “Thanks. Give me a steak, done medium.” He signaled for her to come closer.

She looked over her shoulder as if wary of another dumb practical joke, then put her thigh against the corner of the table. “Yeah?”

“Is it all regulars in here tonight?” he asked.

“Uh … I’m still relatively new. But we sit on a big rural route, so we get a lot of through traffic. The regulars mostly hover around the bar.”

“Thanks.”

She left, once again giving him a confused look.

Eddie checked his watch. Already eight o’clock. He turned his phone back on. He’d missed two calls from Green. He tried to reach Giles because he felt like talking to somebody who’d sympathize, but got no answer. He put the phone on the table and went through the steps Ms. Magloin had taught him earlier about channeling. Maybe that way he could get some answers. If not, he’d tell Green it was time to cut a deal with the prosecution. Far as Eddie was concerned, Anson Ketcher was probably guilty but he didn’t want to leave any stone unturned.

The steak came out fast and hot. Eddie ate it ravenously and it reminded him of the steakhouse he and Tim used to go to back home. From there it was an easy trip down memory lane, from their last job together to Tim’s gruesome death to Eddie’s time inside the joint to the last big job to the here and now. Eddie marveled at his current position in the universe. Who would have thought he’d be in Bubblefuck, upstate New York working as an expert witness on a murder case. It defied all logic and sense of order. He wasn’t supposed to be eating this steak in this booth right now. He should have been helping other recovering addicts, or working in a lumber yard, or doing the things that most other ex-cons did. In some parallel universe, he was probably a recidivist, back inside the joint for his second or third offense. But somehow, it had worked out for him in this reality.

He just needed this job to go well to grow the business. He’d never be a millionaire doing this work but it interested him and paid the bills. That was more than most people had. Most schlepped to an office, sat in a claustrophobic cubicle, and worked a job they hated. For forty years. It was no coincidence the people that liked their jobs were usually good at them.

Throughout his meal, he felt the eyes on him again so Eddie started marking the men at the bar. A dozen characters sat behind their beers, most of them watching one of the TVs above the bar. He stared till he got who-the-fuck-are-you-looking-at reactions from some of the patrons. There were three other guys, not sitting together, who didn’t bat an eyelash or look at him.

Eddie figured it had been one of those three who’d been checking him out. He wondered if the interest was professional or not.

Giles called him back. “Any news, Edward?”

Any time somebody called him Edward it was like nails on a chalkboard. “I wanted to pick your brain a little. You ever hear about, Christ I don’t even know what to call it … reverse possession?”

There was a long pause. “What do you mean?”

“As in a person possessing a ghost.”

Giles started answering but the call went choppy. He must have been in a bad area.

“Where are you?” Eddie asked. “I didn’t think there were any bad areas for reception anymore.”

“ … in the car. Can you hear me now?”

“Loud and clear. Did you hear what I asked?”

“I did. I was saying that I read about it before. I think some team tried it in eastern Europe and claimed to have made it work. But that’s all I can remember.”

“You put any stock in it?”

Giles laughed. It was the first time Eddie had heard him laugh since he’d come up here and it sounded forced, like Giles was out of practice. “Not even I can go that far, Eddie. I don’t think it’s possible.”

Eddie had never heard Giles call something impossible before. “That’s more like it. Remember, my name’s Eddie, pal.”

“Ah, yes. You know me. Stuffy, arrogant Giles.”

Eddie flagged the waitress down and made a sign for the check. “I’m going dark tonight but maybe we can hook up this weekend?”

“Of course, old friend. We can recount war stories and maybe you can give me a taste of what you’ve been doing out here. I hate being on the outside looking in.”

“At this point, I don’t see the harm. Talk to you later.”

Eddie paid for his dinner and tipped the waitress twenty-five percent. He’d waitered for a summer in high school so he was a generous tipper, knowing how often the server got blamed for things outside of his control, like the ambience or the burger not being cooked right or the fact the soda fountain only had Pepsi but not Coke. He left the restaurant and sat in his car a moment, looking through the rearview at the front door.

Ten seconds later, one of the men he’d been watching came out. But he was not alone. He had his arm around the petite shoulders of some woman a third his size. The man didn’t even look in Eddie’s direction, just walked with the woman to the far side of the lot.

Maybe Eddie was just being paranoid. He’d had to grow eyes in the back of his head when he’d been inside, and somebody from his past had tried to kill him less than a year ago, so when he got that fuzzy feeling on the back of his neck he listened to it.

Chief Towson told Officer Thieler to shut the door behind her. She stood in front of his desk and half-snapped to attention. Three years in, she was still the new girl on the block and if the Chief liked her or disliked her, he kept his opinion to himself. He wasn’t exactly warm toward all the men, either, so she couldn’t call the department an Old Boy’s Club, though Towson had his favorites. His son, the M.E., Grimm, a couple of the other guys. He did not like Detective Ross. There was a rumor that Ross had sided with the DA one time against Towson. Far as she was concerned, Ross was good people and a better detective. Every time she spoke to him she learned something.

“Have a seat, Becky,” the Chief said.

She did.

He leaned back and folded his hands on top of his beach ball gut. “I have a special detail. You’ll get time-and-a-half. I want you to follow Eddie McCloskey, see what he’s up to, report it back to me.”

She tried not to act surprised.

“Any questions?”

“Where is he staying?”

The Chief told her.

“Am I looking for anything in particular?”

“The DA wants to ensure that everybody’s playing fair, putting all their cards on the table. After today’s developments, I wouldn’t put it past defense counsel to play fast and loose and not turn over everything they find. They’re in a tough spot and I have to assume they’re desperate.”

The news of this morning’s paranormal investigation at the Ketcher residence had spread throughout the department as quickly as gossip at the prom. Thieler had thought her fellow officer was playing a practical joke on her when he shared the news, it was so far-fetched.

“What is it?” the Chief asked.

“Detective Ross has always been … good to me. I don’t want him to think I’m going behind his back. Sir.”

A vein popped out on the Chief’s forehead. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “Detective Ross is busy with other important cases and Alice’s father, through the DA, has asked me to head this up personally. The Councilman is good to this department so I want to return the favor. Now if there are no other questions.”

Of course there were other questions but Thieler didn’t want to push it. She left the Chief’s office, didn’t meet Ross’s eyes as she passed the detective, and arranged to use an unmarked car.

* * * *

On the way to the Ketcher place, Eddie walked through the steps for channeling in his mind. He would be taking a major risk here. He was breaking professional protocol and he’d be doing it in front of Gracie Barbitok. The cameras would be rolling. If it didn’t work, he’d look like a desperate loon, just as bad if not worse than Giles Tyson had appeared during Gracie’s sting operation.

C-I-A-R-A

Clear
: He had to connect with his center to feel the spirit within him.

Invoke
: Then he had to invite the spirit to enter his space.

Ask
: Next he had to verbalize his question and write it down.

Receive
: The answer would come to him. It might just feel like he was thinking.

Apply
: If he got an answer, he could act on it.

Sounded like a bunch of new age bullshit. But Eddie was out of options. The worst part? Anson was probably guilty.

Eddie’s phone buzzed. It was Stan.

“Give me some good news, brother.”

“This shit’s beyond even me. You’re going to need help, and probably from the crime lab.”

“Awesome. How do we do it?”

Stan told him. Eddie didn’t understand a word of it.

“Well that sounds easy.”

His phone beeped signifying another call. It was Green calling.

“Stan, I’m getting another call and there’s no way I can arrange this chemical testing tonight. It’ll have to be tomorrow. Let me get back to you.”

Eddie answered Green’s call as he turned onto Anson’s street. “I’m going to be there in five minutes, counselor.”

In the background, Eddie heard sirens and commotion.

Green said, “There is no there anymore, Eddie.”

“What are you talking about?”

Eddie rounded a bend and in the distance could see the flash of police and fire truck lights. He stepped on it, not wanting to believe his eyes.

A huge fire raged where the Ketcher house should have been. The flames twisted and reached high into the sky. Then he caught his first whiff of smoke and slid the knob for internal air only.

Green said something else, but the reception was bad here and the call dropped.

Eddie stopped short of the driveway and hauled ass across the lawn as firefighters blasted the house with water. The two streams of water looked pitifully small against the backdrop of the inferno.

Eddie could picture the insurance investigator’s report now: TOTAL LOSS.

He came to a halt, his legs heavy after the sprint. Firefighters and police rushed past him. Detective Ross and the DA and Denard Green stood in a tight triangle and argued. Gracie Barbitok caught Eddie’s eye. She pointed at him, then at the house and shook her head, as if he were responsible for the fire.

Eddie meant to hold up all his fingers at her, but only the middle one listened.

Then Green was at his side. He had to raise his voice over the din. “Tell me you weren’t anywhere near this house this afternoon.”

“Come on, Green. Why would I burn the house down? The evidence in hand is bad for us. I’d want every chance to get back in there.”

“The DA will ask. You’d better begin your answer with, No.” Green looked over Eddie’s shoulder and then cuffed his arm and moved him farther away from the crowd. “Where does this leave us?”

“Ghosts are usually geographically-limited. The destruction of the house might cause it to dissipate permanently.”

“Which means you won’t get any more information.”

Eddie nodded.

“When will you know?”

“A day or two.”

“We’re picking a jury on Monday,” Green said. “Judge Metnick won’t let us take longer than a day with that. Opening arguments on Tuesday. You’ll be in the box probably Wednesday. Then we hand it over to the jury.”

“Is Anson taking the stand?”

“Haven’t made up my mind yet. He makes a bad witness and he and Alice have bad history.”

“What does the fire mean for us? Can you argue we need more time?”

“No. Time’s up. There’s nothing left to produce except your expert report. It’s up to you, Eddie. It’s up to you.”

“Good to know you’re putting all your eggs in my basket.” Eddie left Green there, headed back to his car as the house fire raged behind him.