The Haunting at Grays Harbor (The River Book 8) (11 page)

“I’m assuming you have some idea what that was,” Roy said as
he followed Maynard to his truck.

“Come on, let’s get out of the vortex,” Maynard said as he
opened the door to his truck and got inside. “She’ll see that we followed her
wishes.” He started up the truck.

“What was she doing?” Steven asked as Maynard backed his
truck and trailer out of the driveway. “Eating herself?”

“Disgusting,” Roy said.

“Never seen that before,” Maynard said. “I’ve seen some FUBAR
things, but that surprised me.”

“She
was
eating herself, right?” Steven asked. “Tell
me I’m not the only one who saw that.”

“We saw it,” Maynard said.

“She was the vorghost?” Roy said. “What was wrong with her?”

“I don’t know,” Maynard answered. “Every vorghost is
different. The vortex each of them makes is customized, suited to their needs
and purposes. The blue mist is a hallmark of a vortex, but usually it’s much
thicker, and swirling, like a whirlpool. The stars are usually visible – it’s
the star pattern you’d see right now if the sun wasn’t out. But you saw how it
blipped in and out. Her whole system is on the fritz.”

“And she didn’t seem very well suited to do anything about
it,” Roy said.

“No,” Maynard replied. “It almost seemed as if she was
destroying herself. She probably doesn’t give two shakes about the missing
rod.”

“What do we do?” Steven asked.

“Well, I want to find out who she is,” Maynard said. “Or,
was. The signature will help. When we get to a phone I’ll give my friend Dixon
a call. He knows most signatures.”

“You know Dixon?” Roy said, lighting up. “He’s a good friend
of mine!”

A light bulb went off for Maynard. “Roy? Roy… are you
that
Roy, the one he went into business with years ago?”

“That’s me!” Roy said proudly.

“I heard that didn’t end very well,” Maynard said.

“We had some trouble with a supplier, yes,” Roy said. “All resolved
now. But we decided we weren’t businessmen.”

“I’ve used Dixon’s help for years,” Maynard said. “He’s got
the best knowledge of signatures and patterns of anyone around. Can’t say I
approve of his morals – he’s a little too friendly with women.”

“You Mormons are always so uptight about that stuff,” Roy
replied. “Aren’t you the ones with all the multiple, underaged wives?”

“Not me,” Maynard replied indignantly. “One wife, thirty-eight
years.”

“What about your ancestors?”

“Well, my great-grandfather had three wives.”

“See, that’s what I mean, talking about morals.”

“But he… ”

“Can we get back to the vorghost?” Steven interrupted.

“Right,” Maynard said, clearing his mind. “Anyway, we’ll
check with Dixon, and hopefully that’ll point us in some kind of direction.”

“Dixon’s in Hawaii,” Roy said.

“Did he sail? Or fly?” Maynard asked.

“We don’t know,” Steven replied.

“Well, we’ll try anyway,” Maynard said. “If he sailed, he’ll
have all his reference materials with him. And if he flew, it’s still worth a shot,
since he has most of them memorized. Once we know who she is – or was – we can
see if she had any children. They’re probably gifted, too, and they might talk
to us. That might help us figure out why she’s in the state she’s in.”

“So we can do what?” Steven asked. “Stop her degeneration?
Get her back on her feet? She hasn’t got any feet!”

“Vorghosts don’t need feet,” Maynard replied. “Or a body,
really. There’s nothing in her, no organs or anything like that. You saw it was
just a white substance, right? There’s nothing there. It’s almost symbolic. I
think she wants out, and she doesn’t know how to end it.”

“How to end it?” Steven asked. “You mean, move on? Stop being
a vorghost?”

“Yes,” Maynard replied. “It’s rare, but it happens. When a
vorghost wants to end things, it shuts down its vortex. The loss of power
drains the vorghost, and it eventually dies. There have been a couple of cases
of vortexes without a vorghost, however. No one knows how they moved on, but
the vortex kept running, using a power source. I did it once. I helped my
father shut down an abandoned vortex many years ago. You have to control the
rods while you shut down the power source. It’s tricky. When we were done, he
could have sold the rods for a lot of money, but he kept them. Used them to
make his own vortex later.”

“So your father is a vorghost, now?” Roy asked. “Do you still
see him?”

“Yes, he’s got a vortex in Arizona,” Maynard replied. “I see
him occasionally. He loves being a vorghost – it was what he spent his life
wanting to become.”

“Is he the same?” Steven asked. “I mean, the same person? Has
he changed?”

“He has changed,” Maynard said. “Their existence is
completely different from ours. The fact that I’m his son is something he
remembers, but the relationship has changed completely. A lot of his thoughts
now are about maintaining power, like an animal who thinks mostly about eating.
It’s very strange.”

Steven bounced up and down in the pickup’s cab as they rode
back into town, silence settling down upon them. He thought about what it would
be like to be a vorghost, and the idea repelled him.
Not for me,
he
thought.
Or Dad. I can’t imagine him being one, either.

Once they stopped in Aberdeen, Steven offered his phone to
Maynard for the purpose of a call to Dixon, but Maynard recoiled at the device.
Steven saw Roy smirk a little at Maynard’s reaction.

“Thanks anyway, but I’ll use the phone in my room,” Maynard
said, walking into the motel. “Why don’t we meet down here for some lunch in an
hour, and we’ll see if Dixon comes through.”

“You like razor clams?” Roy asked.

“Never heard of ’em,” Maynard said, turned, and sped off down
the hall toward his room.

“Just when I think I might like the guy,” Roy grumbled, “he
says something that reverses my opinion.”

“He’s old,” Steven said. “I wouldn’t take it personally. He
probably just needed the bathroom. I don’t think he’s used to coffee. I’m going
to stop in on Barbara, see if she’s OK. Give her an update.”

“I’ll come with you,” Roy said, following Steven down the
hall toward Barbara’s room.

They knocked on her door, and Barbara opened it, welcoming
them in. Georgina and May were playing on a round table near the window.

“Not many places to sit,” Barbara said, motioning to one of
the two double beds. “Please.”

Steven and Roy sat on the bed next to each other, and Barbara
sat across from them.

“You holding up?” Steven asked.

“Oh, we’re fine,” she replied. “Being out of that house made
all the difference. A little cramped, but OK.”

“I think we’ve made some progress,” Steven said. “We think we
know where that rod came from.”

The girls became loud, playing behind Barbara. She turned on
the bed and faced them. “Girls, please. Hold it down. We’re talking.”

Steven saw the two look over at them, and they smiled bashfully.
Then they returned to their playing.

“You know where it came from?” Barbara asked.

“Yes,” Steven said. “There’s an old boarded up house behind
you, on the next street back.”

Steven noticed Georgina glance up from her playing. She
looked at them for a moment, then returned to her dolls and her sister.

“There’s a… ” Steven paused, searching for the right word,
“…a disturbance there. We think the rod came from that house.”

“That old abandoned place on Birch Street?” Barbara asked.
“The one with all the plywood covering the windows?”

“That’s the one,” Roy said.

“The neighborhood kids call it the Murder Marie house,”
Barbara said. “They all think it’s haunted.”

“They’re right,” Roy said.

“If our theory is correct, the rod somehow moved from there
to your place,” Steven said.

“Moved?” Barbara said. “How?”

“We don’t know yet,” Steven replied.

“Can it be removed?” Barbara asked.

“That’s our plan,” Steven continued. “There’s a few things we
have to do first, but ultimately that’s what we want – to get it out of your
house. I think once it’s gone, your home will be back to normal.”

Barbara’s shoulders sagged and she hunched over a little, letting
out a sigh. “Oh, you can’t believe how good that is to hear. I was beginning to
think we’d have to sell and move.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Roy jumped in. “We’re not
there quite yet.”

“But there’s a chance?” she asked.

“Oh yes, I think there’s a good chance,” Steven said. “We’ve
got some help from an expert who’s worked with rods before. He seems to know
what he’s doing. It was his idea to check out the abandoned house – and he was
right. It’s definitely the source of the problem. Not your house.”

“Well, thank god,” Barbara said, smiling. “Any idea how long
before it’s gone? The rod?”

“We’re waiting on some information that will get us started
on a solution,” Roy said. “This might take a day, or it might take a week. We
don’t know yet. We’ll keep you posted, though. Do you have enough here to get
by?”

“If we need anything, I’ll just pick it up at a store here in
town,” Barbara said. “I’m not going back into that house until you’re done.”

◊

The information from Dixon had them heading to the seaside
town of Moclips to find a relative of the vorghost. The drive up the coast had
been mostly silent. Steven and Roy had tried to get more information about
Maynard’s past by asking him questions, but he sat in the back seat of Steven’s
car, delivering short answers that seemed to make asking follow up questions
impolite. Consequently, the drive had been a little awkward.

They reached Moclips after an hour, and Steven slowed his car
as they entered the small town. Many of the trees had a strange shape, the tops
pointing inland, the result of years of wind from the ocean. He slowly crawled
through the town, following the route his phone displayed. He slowed as the
phone indicated they had arrived.

“He lives in there?” Roy asked. “What a dump!”

They were parked next to a shack that had a patchwork of
metal and wood planks attached to all sides of the house, making it look like
it had been formed out of junk. Old glass floats were lined along the front
wall of the shack, an attempt at decoration.

“I’ll do the talking,” Maynard said, stepping up to the front
door. Roy gave Steven a perturbed look. Steven nodded in agreement.

The man who opened the door looked about Maynard’s age, but
taller. He was wearing overalls with a large sweater poking out the top.

“Yes?” the man asked, looking at them suspiciously.

“I’m Maynard, and this is Roy, and his son, Steven. We’re
hoping you’ll talk to us about Marie.”

“Marie?” the man repeated, squinting. “My grandmother Marie?”

“Yes,” Maynard replied.

“She’s been gone for years, that’s all I know.” The man
started to shut the door, but Maynard stuck his foot out, blocking it.

“She was gifted, like you, am I right?” Maynard asked.

The man began shoving the door into Maynard’s foot. “So what
if she was. None of your business.”

“You said that she’s been gone,” Maynard said, holding his
foot firm. “I think we may have found her.”

The man stopped trying to push the door closed and looked up
at them. “Are you cops? You have to identify yourselves if you are.”

“We’re not cops,” Roy said.

“We’re gifted, just like you,” Maynard said. “We need to know
a few things about your grandmother.”

“If you found her, where is she?” the man asked, raising an
eyebrow.

“Let us in so we can talk to you,” Maynard said. “We’ll tell
you what we know.”

The man’s eyes darted back and forth rapidly. “There’s no
room for you in here. Go around back, I’ll meet you there.”

Maynard removed his foot from the threshold and the man
slammed the door shut.

“Interesting,” Steven said.

“Seemed a little unhinged to me,” Roy said under his breath
as they walked around the side of the house. Steven noticed that the few
windows they walked past were plastered over from the inside, with newspaper.
It had turned bright yellow from exposure to the sun.

“We just need to get the information about his grandmother,”
Maynard said. “Nothing more.”

“Can’t imagine it’ll be useful if he’s crazy,” Roy replied.

The back yard had a beautiful view of the ocean from a small
cliff. The man emerged from a wooden door at the back of the shack, a cigarette
in his hand. He sat in a white wire chair that had dark red rust spots. He
ashed the cigarette into an old Rainier beer can that was on the ground next to
him. There was nowhere else to sit, so they stood around him. A slight wind
blowing, and every now and again Steven could feel mist from the ocean hit his
face and neck.

“You’re Amos? Her grandson?” Maynard asked. “Carleton was
your father? Her son?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Amos said. “Where is she? I presume you
found her body.”

“She’s dead, yes,” Maynard said. “But not silent.”

“A ghost?” Amos asked.

“Yup,” Maynard said. “A highly problematic one.”

“Sounds like her,” Amos said. “She was one whacked out bitch.”

“You knew her?” Maynard asked.

“I met her only once,” Amos said, “just before she
disappeared. My father considered her crazy, so he kept us away from her. Most
of what I know about her is stories my daddy told me.”

“Was she really crazy?” Roy asked. “Or just eccentric? You
know how people can misjudge those with the gift.”

“My daddy thought she was completely batshit,” Amos said,
following it up with a long drag from his cigarette, and expelling a large
cloud of smoke into the air. “From the stories he told, I’d have to agree. She
seemed like a lunatic, especially after she broke up with a rich guy she’d
married. She went completely off the deep end.” Amos made a hand motion of
someone diving off a cliff, whistling as it dropped.

“What happened to her?” Maynard asked. “What’s the last thing
you heard about her?”

“She disappeared, along with my aunt, who was just eight or
nine at the time,” Amos answered. “Up and flew the coop. My daddy went to check
on them at their house in Hoquiam one day, and no one was home. No notes, no
forwarding address. Just gone.”

“Did he report them missing?” Roy asked.

“He did, ’cause he was worried about Christina,” Amos said,
taking a long draw from his cigarette.

“And did they find her?” Steven asked.

“No, we never heard another thing,” Amos said. “And I don’t
think my daddy cared too much. The most he ever did was to go talk to her ex
about it, see if he knew where she was. But for the most part I think he was
happy to have her out of his life. She was unpredictable, a whacko. He felt
sorry for his sister, though. He always hoped she’d be OK.”

“Do you think the ex had anything to do with it?” Maynard
asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Amos said, tapping the ash of his
cigarette into the can. “I was little. And it wouldn’t matter if he did. My
daddy said her ex had so much money, even if he’d done something to her and got
caught, he could buy his way out of it with lawyers. My daddy said the guy
married her because she was pretty, before he realized how crazy she was. Once
he got wind of how fucked up she could be, he dropped her like a hot potato.
They were only married for a couple of years.”

“Christina was their child?” Roy asked.

“Yes,” Amos replied.

“Do you know the name of the rich ex?” Steven asked.

“I don’t know his name,” Amos said, dropping his spent
cigarette into the can. “I didn’t care much since my daddy’s father, Marie’s
first husband, was my real grandpa. He moved to Shelton after he divorced Marie,
twenty years earlier. She was so crazy no one would touch her with a ten foot
pole until she hooked up with the rich guy. By that time my daddy had grown up,
moved out and gotten married to my momma.”

Maynard walked up to Amos and stuck out his hand. “Thanks for
your time. I appreciate the information.”

Amos shook his hand without standing up. “So Marie’s a ghost
now, huh?”

“Yes.”

“She giving you a bit of trouble?” Amos asked, smirking.

“Not for long,” Maynard replied. He turned and walked from
the back yard, Steven and Roy in tow.

◊

“Didn’t appreciate his language,” Maynard said from the back
seat as they drove back to Aberdeen. “Unnecessary.”

“His language?” Roy asked, baffled. “He was speaking English
as far as I could tell.”

“I don’t see any reason to use the f-word like that,” Maynard
said, without a hint of indignancy. “It’s the sign of a small mind that has to
resort to that kind of language.”

Steven saw his father, sitting in the front passenger seat,
roll his eyes and mutter “Jesus Christ!” under his breath.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Maynard said. “As far as
I can tell, there’s no one going to care one whit if Marie is gone, so we’ll
attempt to dismantle the vortex.”

“Will that kill her?” Steven asked.

“Eventually,” Maynard replied. “The vortex is what’s keeping
her alive – and is, of course, the source of your troubles. If we shut it down,
it’ll solve your problem, and I think Marie will just dwindle and eventually
disappear.”

“Have you ever shut down a vortex before?” Roy asked.

“A couple of times,” Maynard said. “I have all of the
equipment in the car. It’s not dangerous if you follow the rules. You just have
to keep your mind focused.”

“What’s the process?” Steven asked, glancing up at Maynard in
the rear view mirror. “What happens?”

“We decommission the rods,” Maynard replied. “The coil around
each rod has to be removed. It was wrapped around the rod originally by the
vorghost, by hand, before they died. It can be spiraled off with the help of a
device I brought with me. Once it’s off, that rod stops performing its vortex
function.”