Sinister Entity (9 page)

Her overhead light flicked on and off and she felt something brush across the back of her neck, as if she had walked under a cobweb. She sensed someone right behind her, but the noises had come from the closet.

The knob twisted within her hand of its own accord and the door flung wide open.

There
was
someone in her closet.
 

The girl nestled amongst her clothes stared back at her, her eyes wide with shock, her mouth open in a silent scream.
 

She was the mirror image of Selena, only paler, with deep, dark eyes that were as unfathomable as the farthest reaches of space. The girl in the closet raised her hands in protest, her chest heaving as though she was shouting but no sounds escaped her throat.
 

Selena dropped the stick, trembling. She backed away on legs that had been stripped of all muscle and bone.
 

Her lips trembled as she sputtered, “No…no…no.” Her stomach dropped and she had to pee with an urgency she had never felt before. A jolt raced through her body when she collided with her chair. She grabbed its back to keep from falling, her gaze never leaving the phantasmagorical mirror image standing amidst her clothes and cheerleading uniforms.
 

The girl, Selena’s twin, also moved back farther into the closet, pushing dresses aside, a look of pure terror on her face.
 

Selena
could
scream, and she did.
 

She screamed until her entire family came bursting into her room, until the girl in the closet retreated to the dark recesses, back farther than the physical limits of the closet itself, fading into the nothing from whence she came.
 

Selena screamed until her throat was raw and blood flecked her panicked mother’s nightshirt.
 

Chapter Fourteen

Jessica Backman handed the manila envelope to Aunt Eve while a tornado of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. They sat on the back deck so the morning sun could warm them while they drank coffee. The birdbath in the yard was full of skittering, wet sparrows.
 

“I wanted you to read it first, so you can give me the thumbs-up or -down,” Jessica said.
 

Eve used a nail to tear an opening along the top flap. She was still a very pretty woman, her smooth, lightly tanned skin and short, blonde hair making her look at least ten years younger than a woman approaching her late forties. It was only when you were close and her guard was down that you could catch brief glimpses of the sorrow that always lurked in her eyes, sometimes hiding in the tiniest corners but never, ever, entirely gone.
 

“And who was the one who did the background check?” Eve asked before pulling out its contents.
 

“Swedey, the guy who does all of my web stuff. He’s one of those hacker geniuses who can find out anything about anybody. I gave him two full weeks to look up everything he could about Ed Home. I want to make sure this guy is on the level.”

Eve’s shoulders slumped, her face quizzical. “If you’re so uneasy about him, why even bother going through all this trouble?”

Jessica looked down at her coffee. “There were some things he said that kinda stuck with me.”

She offered no more in the way of an explanation. The background check was ten pages long and involved everything from Ed Home’s birth certificate right up to the present.
 

Eve raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “This is going to take a few minutes.”

Jessica eyed the sparrows, stretched her arms and took a sip of coffee. “That’s okay. I have nothing but time today. It’s nice being out in the morning sun for a change.”

Because of her chosen profession, if she could call it that, sunlight was something she usually slept through, especially during the downtime between semesters. She felt an afternoon getting some vitamin D was in definite need.
 

Eve spent the next fifteen minutes reading and re-reading the report while Jessica closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun. When Eve was finished, she placed her coffee mug atop the papers and folded her hands on the table.
 

“From what you said he told you, everything in there checks out. He
is
the great-grandson of D.D. Home, he
did
attend Duke University and he
was
at the Rhine Research Center over the past year. There’s nothing specific about his abilities, but there’s plenty mentioned about the other men in his family line. His parents are divorced and he currently lives in the Bronx. No criminal record, got all A’s and B’s in school, has no outstanding debt and volunteered at an animal shelter for three years, starting when he was fifteen. He sounds like the all-American boy. Being a New Yorker, that makes me suspicious. That and the fact that he found you after all of the pains we took to keep you anonymous.”

With a frown that brought out worry lines on her forehead, Jessica asked, “Does he have any money?”

Eve scanned through a few pages. “Not really, no.”

Guys looking to get close to her because of her money was always a concern. Eve made sure they lived normal lives and they never, ever mentioned to anyone that they had a net worth of over twenty million dollars. Jessica’s father had felt money like that would only bring out the vultures, which it did when he first won the lottery. He had vowed to keep things simple, and Eve followed suit after his death.
 

But the lottery win was not a private thing, especially since it was coupled with the death of her mother on the same day. There were articles about it in all the local papers, articles that someone could easily come by on an Internet search or in the library. Because of that, Jessica and Eve had to be vigilant at all times when new people tried to enter their lives. Jessica often wondered if distrust was the reason Eve remained single, even though she would have made a good man exceedingly happy.
 

Jessica said, “Well, at least he has no debt, so he won’t hit me up for a loan any time soon.” She smiled. “So, what do you say?”

Eve thought things over for a bit, patting the report. “When you look at the hard facts, I’d have to say yes. I guess it can’t hurt to see if he’s the real deal. Maybe he
can
help you. If he was at the Rhine Research Center for a year, he must either have some strange ability or at least a good working knowledge of the stuff you investigate. In an odd way, I’d feel better if you had a partner. Safety in numbers. Plus, there are these little things I call trust and faith, which I have in abundance when it comes to you.
 

“Although, I am curious about what he could have said to you to make you go through all this trouble. He didn’t threaten you, did he?”

Eve’s eyes took on the hardened edge of a warrior. One of her hands balled into a fist. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect Jessica and Liam. They were all survivors, and survivors knew how to look out for each other. God help the man, woman or beast who came between them with less than good intentions.
 

It was never spoken aloud, but Jessica suspected that Eve had been in love with her father. Losing him seemed to drain all hope of ever bonding with another man. Jessica was the last tie to her dad, and Eve was the only mother she had ever known. She sometimes wondered if there was another pair bound as close to one another as they were.
 

Jessica got up and kissed her on the cheek. “If he did, we’d be looking at pictures of him surrounded by a chalk outline. Thank you for loving me. I guess it can’t hurt to give him a shot. I have the perfect case to test him on.”

“The McCammons?”

Jessica nodded. “That place has been a thorn in my side for two months now. Maybe Mr. Eddie Home can pull it out.”

Eddie nearly hit the ceiling when Jessica called him back, a week and a half later than she had said she would. He had resolved himself to defeat and was thinking of what to do next when she called. The job he had gotten working in a health food store was far from glamorous enough to keep him in New York, but the thought of going back to San Francisco filled him with dread.
 

“I’m going to email you the address to the house I need you to meet me at. You can Google map them or whatever,” Jessica said. “Meet me there at seven sharp on Friday night. I already spoke to Tim and Kristen McCammon and got their permission to bring you on board. Rule number one, speak only when spoken to when we get there. They’re going through hell and I don’t want them thinking I’ve resorted to psychics to help them.
Capice
?”

“Can I make a quick correction?”

“As long as it’s quick.”

“I’m actually a psychic-medium. You kinda get the best of both worlds.” When Jessica didn’t respond, he gave a nervous snort.
 

Still silence.
 

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said.
 

“This place has a tendency to get pretty wild. Rule number two, if you run, you’re done. I don’t know how the presence in their house is going to react to you, so be prepared for anything.”

“What should I bring?”

“Yourself, a flashlight and a change of underwear.”

He thought he heard the start of a humorless chuckle as she disconnected the call.
 

Chapter Fifteen

They showed up at the same time in front of the McCammon house, a tidy Tudor in a neighborhood that required potential residents to have at least a couple of million in the bank. The town had once been home to the Kennedys before they became a political juggernaut and was still inhabited by the well-to-do. Jessica looked at Eddie Home’s battered, olive-colored Jeep in her rearview mirror as it pulled up behind hers. At least he had good taste in cars.
 

She popped the trunk and got out to unload her gear. Eddie stepped out, clad all in black.

“You look like an undertaker,” she said to him.
 

“Better I should look like a refugee from a 1988 Anthrax concert?” he shot back. A look of pained consternation washed over his face. He must have thought he was getting off on the wrong foot. She didn’t bother to bail him out of his concern.
 

She had to admit he was a pretty good-looking guy. His thick, wavy hair and strong jawline made him look like a Disney prince or hero. He was tall with just the right amount of lean muscle, as far as she could tell. Living on Long Island, she had grown a strong aversion to muscle-bound juice-heads. No, Eddie Home was a looker.
 

Concentrate on the job,
she scolded herself.
 

“Take this and follow me,” she said, thrusting a black, metallic case into his hands.
 

Tim McCammon answered the door. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy and his posture was one of absolute fatigue. One of his hands gripped the doorframe. It looked like the only thing keeping him upright. His breath smelled like stale beer.
 

“Come on in. It’s been a rough night. Kristen took the kids to a hotel around midnight last night. I decided to stay, show
it
that I’m not afraid. That plan shit the bed in short order.”

Jessica touched his arm and gave a warm smile. “The fact that you stayed did more than you can imagine. Trust me. Tim, this is my associate, Eddie. He’s going to help me set up equipment, take notes and generally keep things from disturbing me while I work.”

Eddie did as he was told and nodded in greeting.
 

They sat for a moment in the living room. Everything was in disarray. It looked as if Tim McCammon had thrown a party the night before with a hundred college students. Lamps were on the floor, curtains were half-hanging off their rods, every drawer was open and the floor was littered with objects that should have been on shelves.
 

Tim leaned forward in his chair, rubbed his hand across his face and stretched his neck until they could hear his bones crack. “Jessica, we appreciate all you’ve been doing for us, but to be honest, things only seem to be getting worse. I’m at a loss here. The truth is, I’m no longer sure we should be doing this. Kristen and I have been talking about selling the house. Since you told us this,
whatever it is
, isn’t related to us or the children, it’s best we just leave. I know you’ve meant well, but I don’t think this is working.”

The words came out softly, precisely, as if he had been rehearsing them for days.
 

Jessica said, “I know how you feel. I’ve told you before that I’ve had an experience similar to this. It was horrible, worse than you can ever imagine. But once my father found the key, it all ended in an instant. I know I’m close. All I ask for is one more night.”

She neglected to mention that her father had lost his life finding that key thirteen years ago, but she was confident it wouldn’t come to that in this case, or any other. Her childhood hell was unique and, she often prayed, singular.
 

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know. If this house had been a stock, I would have cut and run months ago. I make a living knowing when to sell. I’ve gone past the acceptable holding limit here already.”