Dead Sure?: A Paranormal Mystery (7 page)

Chapter 8
The Delay

The Delay

Jack woke up to the phone ringing. He looked at his beat-up old clock—eight-oh-two.  His sleep had been very restless; he had just finally been able to relax a little. The previous day’s events at the bank building had been very unnerving.  A good night’s sleep had been eluding him since he got here.

Rene had talked him into renting an apartment in a converted old mansion. The place just didn’t feel right to him.  It didn’t help that the phone would often ring, but when he picked it up no one was on the other end. Stranger still --he had unplugged it several times and still it would ring.

Ring…ring…ring…“Hello, who is it?” Jack grumbled as the phone fell off the nightstand.

“Hello, Jack, this is Katie, Mr. Yates assistant. He is requesting that you meet him at the main office today at nine am. Oh, and a word of advice--I wouldn’t be late.”

What a way to start a new job?  If I don’t manage to keep this one, I’ll be lucky to get a job as a janitor after this.
  “Fine, nine am it is,” Jack agreed.

Well, this is just great, a meeting with Mr. Yates. It’s not like I didn’t know this was coming.
Jack had heard that most employees that met with Mr. Yates in his office didn’t usually stay employed too long.
Just stay cool, you can talk your way out of this one, I hope. It’s not like it was my fault, but not many people are going to believe the truth. The police sure hassled me enough. It’s a good thing Sam had the same story--mostly.
Looking at the clock, Jack realized he had better hurry up and get going; it was already eight-fifteen. Jumping out of bed, he scrambled to find something professional-looking to wear.

*    *    *

At precisely 8:55 am Jack arrived at the Yates Building. It was a spectacular looking building, about twenty-five stories high, with mirrored glass windows that gleamed in the bright morning sunshine. It didn’t take him long to find Katie, who promptly showed him into Mr. Yates’ office. It was extravagant. Just the sheer size of it was impressive—floor to ceiling windows adorned two sides, a wet bar ran along the back wall, and built-in cherry wood book cases finished off the remaining wall.  The shelves were filled with many interesting artifacts.

Man, this guy sure has style and a whole lot of money to go with it. That desk is over the top!
The giant mahogany desk with its ornate carvings looked like it cost a small fortune. Jack couldn’t help noticing some of the pictures residing on the desk. One was of two men dressed in old-fashioned looking suits standing next to a very pristine Duesenberg automobile. The picture appeared to be signed, but the signature was illegible. In fact, upon closer inspection the corners of the picture appeared to be a bit worn. There was another picture of a beautiful dark-haired woman standing next to a Ford Shelby Roadster. Being the car buff he was, Jack was thoroughly enjoying all the photos and somewhat forgot about how nervous he had felt.
What a car, and what a woman!  Wow, what I wouldn’t give for an office like this!

“Quite a bit, I’m sure.”

What? Did I say that out loud?
Before Jack could contemplate further he realized Mr. Yates was on a cell phone, and not speaking to him at all. Yates was a tall man with a muscular build. He looked to be in his early thirties, with thick dark brown hair. This surprised Jack--the man didn’t fit the picture he had in his mind--an old, grey-haired man in his early sixties.
How did a young guy barely older than me get to be so rich? Lucky bastard probably inherited it and never had to work a day in his life.

Mr. Yates walked over with his hand extended. “Jack, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said with a pleasant smile.

Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all. He seems friendly enough.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Yates.”

“Let’s dispense with the formalities, feel free to call me Steve. Now let’s get right down to brass tacks.”  Steve’s facial expression took on a more serious air.

I am not sure I like how quick he’s getting down to business. Hold on--be cool about it.

“You have obviously heard the news. Yesterday’s incident has caused a substantial stir. The official police report hasn’t been released to the media yet pending investigation. Although, I just happen to have a copy right here. In the report you suggest seeing some type of ghost and that you were not the one that threw the paperweight out the window. That’s really some story, and I do mean
story
. Do you get my point?”

“I am not sure,” Jack muttered tentatively.

“Well, then, Jack, let me tell you this. You’re a smart young man. I know you need to keep this big job to salvage your reputation. Sam mentioned that you tossed the paperweight at him earlier. I am assuming you did it again and things got out of hand. In an attempt to keep yourself out of trouble, you concocted a ghost story.  Frankly, I don’t give a crap what really happened. What I don’t need is this project delayed by an investigation of something that doesn’t need investigating!  So, to put it very simply, go back to the police station and change your statement. Tell them that it was an accident.  Tell them the paperweight slipped out of your hand. You will take care of this immediately. Do you understand?” Mr. Yates left no room for a discussion.

“Doing that will make me look like a foolish liar!” Jack said angrily.

“And not doing it is going to make you look poor and unemployed,” uttered Steve in a deep powerful voice.

After some hesitation Jack mumbled, “All right…I don’t like it, but I will do it.”

“I had a feeling you would. Now go take care of it before that crazy ghost story spins out of control and further damage is done. Also, I don’t want you to speak about this anymore, and of course you know--this conversation never took place.”  Steve turned towards the windows.  He had nothing left to say.

Jack got up and left the office. He felt dejected. It wasn’t his style to cave in to pressure from authority. Yet, here he was doing it even when it went against every grain of his fiber.

“Nothing’s gonna screw up my new building. I am number one and don’t you forget it. We’ll just see who comes out on top again,” Steve uttered out loud to himself. If there was someone there, only he could see them.

*    *    *                        

Sam had met Rene for the first time yesterday afternoon after leaving the police station. Being such a warm hearted person, Sam had to make sure the woman that had been injured was all right. Upon meeting her, he immediately felt some connection to her. So much so that he had offered her a ride home perhaps with a stop off for some coffee and dinner. She too had felt a connection and took him up on his offer. And here they were the next day having lunch together.

She was so attractive; Sam just couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her strawberry blonde hair blew lightly in the breeze as they ate at an outdoor café. It was a beautiful sunny day, not too hot and not too cool. Normally, Sam would have been at work with maybe a short lunch break. However, after the events yesterday, the worksite had been closed off by the police pending further investigation. Sam was just glad Rene hadn’t been seriously injured. She had suffered a small cut and a slight bruise to her arm and a bump on her head from her unexpected “meeting” with the sidewalk.

Rene too would have normally been hard at work, but after yesterday her bosses at the medical building felt she should take the day off. And who was she to argue with sound judgment like that? Now, she was enjoying a great summer day with an interesting new guy. Sam seemed so easy-going and straightforward. Not at all like Jack, the guy she crashed into the other day. Yet, she couldn’t stop the occasional stray thought of that man from passing through her mind.

“So, Sam, when you’re not rescuing damsels in distress, what exactly is your job?” she said with a giggle.

“Well, I really enjoy blowing stuff up, a lot!” he said enthusiastically. “Actually though, my job is more about building things than destroying them. For instance, the old Horner Bank Building is going to become the newest, tallest skyscraper in the Twin Cities area. It’s really a great project to be part of.”

Before Rene could respond, her cell phone rang. It was a quirky ring tone, some odd sounding song that Sam couldn’t quite place. “Hello,” she answered in a chipper voice.

“Hello, Rene, it’s Jack. I was wondering if we could get together tonight for dinner. I wanted to talk to you about the accident and explain something before you hear it from someone else.” He was trying hard to sound upbeat, even though he didn’t feel that way at all.

“Sure, I guess so. I am busy right now; I’ll call you back later,” Rene smiled clicking her phone shut. “Sorry about that, Sam. So what was it you where saying about the project?” Just then a shooting pain came up her neck into her forehead and behind her eyes. Her head was hurting so bad, so very bad. She closed her eyes and tried to massage her temples.

“Rene, are you all right? Can I get you something?” Sam was worried.

The pain was so intense she didn’t even hear Sam talking to her. The world around became like some far off blur. Then as fast as it had come, the pain subsided. Rene just sat there staring at Sam. “So, what were you saying about the project?” She asked nonchalantly.

“What just happened? --- Are you okay?” Sam stuttered with a look of confusion on his face.

“I am fine. What are you talking about, silly?” Rene said with a big warm smile on her face.

“Just a minute ago you were holding your head, practically doubled over in pain.”

“Sam, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Seriously, you don’t remember a thing?” he said utterly mystified.

“Sam, you’re starting to freak me out a little. Let’s talk about something else. I bet you wouldn’t have guessed that I am somewhat clairvoyant. In fact, right now, I foresee us going out Friday night for a quick bite to eat and a movie.”

“You do, huh? Well, I guess your powers really do work. I feel sure that will happen,” he said with a chuckle.

Chapter 9
A twist in Time June 14
th
, 1986

A twist in Time

June 14
th
, 1986

It was a gorgeous sunny Saturday morning as Tim left the house. He gave his daughter Missy a kiss and a hug, and asked her to join him while he went rummaging. Missy didn’t like to go to garage sales with her father. He was an avid history buff and had to scrutinize each and every old “thing” he saw. He was particularly fond of the 1920’s and had an extensive collection of coins and postcards from that era.

Tim already knew what Missy’s response would be before he asked the question. “Well, grandmother should be back from the store shortly. I’ll see you in a couple hours, and please stay out of mischief.” Not that he was worried, Missy was a congenial kid. She had a beautiful warm smile that always made you feel good, but left you wondering what she was up to.

Tim hopped in his car, an old 1969 Buick Skylark, and headed off. He always imagined what fabulous treasure he might uncover. Usually the anticipation was better than the actual finds.

Ten minutes later he arrived at the first address circled in the newspaper.  As he pulled up he saw that this rummage sale didn’t look too promising, but he couldn’t be sure without checking it out.  Hopping out of the car, he walked up. His first assessment proved to be correct. The sale was comprised of a bunch of kids’ clothes, some toys, dishware and some other miscellaneous things.
On to the next one,
he thought. Oh, how he loved the hunt! He had seven more yard sales to go.

After seven not-so-great sales, Tim was starting to feel a little disappointed. Usually he found a few good tidbits. Today, though, had proved fruitless, he had not made even a single purchase. Ever the optimist, Tim’s mood picked up as he pulled up to the last sale. This one was in an older neighborhood. Each table was loaded down with boxes filled with all sorts of interesting items.  The first box Tim looked into contained old record albums. The next box had old books, and another was filled with old postcards—jackpot!  Several boxes into the sale Tim’s patience had been rewarded with numerous items he was going to purchase.

The white-haired gentleman running the sale had seen Tim accumulating an armload of stuff. Recognizing a good customer when he saw one, the old man quickly provided Tim with an empty box, making it easier to accumulate even more.

An hour later, Tim had managed to work his way through all of the tables box by box. He had left “no stone unturned” as the cliché goes.  Tim had managed to completely fill the box the old man had given him. He proceeded over to the card table, where the old couple was sitting to complete his purchase.

“Holy cow, mister, you’re my best customer of the day!” said the old man enthusiastically.

“Yah, this has to be one of the better sales I’ve been to,” said Tim with just as much enthusiasm.

The white-haired gentlemen began the tedious task of taking each of the items out of the box. His wife rolled her eyes, a look of impatience coming over her face.

“Harry, just charge him twenty dollars for the lot.”

“No, Martha,” he replied. “Women, sheesh, they have no head for business.” He continued to empty the box and write down the prices in an old notebook.

Ten minutes later he came to the last item in the box. It was an old medallion, slightly larger than a silver dollar but much thicker. “Martha, this goofy coin doesn’t have a price on it.”

“Just throw it in for free, then. You have wasted enough of this young man’s time.”

“Free, huh, I don’t think so. Hey, mister, how about I charge you a dollar for it?”

“That’s fine, a dollar seems fair enough to me.” Tim felt he had the better end of the whole deal anyway.

*    *    *

Tim’s drive home seemed to be dragging on forever. He couldn’t wait to get back and go through all of his new treasures. What a day this was turning out to be. Halfway home, on a quiet side street, the car shuddered and pulled to the right. He carefully applied the brakes, quickly realizing that the car had a flat tire. Tim was exceptionally good at staying calm under pressure. His analytical mind would kick into gear and help him resolve whatever issues confronted him. He wasn’t a very physical man; he stood about five feet eight inches tall, with a medium build, instead he prided himself on his intellect and attitude. 

The car came safely to a stop beside the curb. He jumped out to check, and sure enough his right front tire was as flat as a pancake.
I should get this thing changed and get home.
He looked at his watch and realized it was still fairly early.
Maybe I’ll just take another look at that goofy coin first. There’s something very appealing about it. The only thing that would improve it is if it was from the twenties.
He fished through the box looking for it. The coin had managed to work its way down to the bottom.
Ah, there it is!
He snatched it up eagerly. The first time he had held it at the rummage sale his palm had felt tingly.
I wonder if that sensation was just my imagination, it wasn’t
.
Wow, the coin feels powerful in some strange way. The longer I hold it the stronger the feeling. It’s actually kind of..
Before he could finish his thought, he became momentarily distracted by one of the 1920’s postcards he had purchased. A slight breeze was wafting through the car window and had blown the postcard out of the box where it had been sitting neatly on top of the pile. He glanced at it, momentarily intrigued.
I wish I could see what the twenties were really like.

*    *    *

Several days later police found Tim’s 69 Buick abandoned in a peaceful neighborhood about seven miles from his home. The front tire was flat, and there didn’t appear to be any signs of foul play or struggle. It was as if he had just walked off. They speculated that maybe the flat was the final straw that induced him to abandon everything. For what else could explain such a strange mystery? 

Missy and her grandmother never bought into this easy trite explanation. In fact the craziness of the whole thing, the lack of explanation, drove Missy’s grandmother to become a hard-drinking woman. How could Missy have known when she woke up that morning that her father’s usual yard sale trip would alter and haunt her life forever?