The Unearthed: Book One, The Eddie McCloskey Series (22 page)

Eddi
e
and Tim had packed all their equipment into the van and still hadn’t said a word to each other.

Tim opened the driver’s door and looked back at the house. In the light of day, he couldn’t believe all that had happened here in the last twenty-four hours.

Eddie had his eyes down and was coming down the front walk toward him. Tim didn’t know what he was going to say to his brother.

“Eddie, wait!”

Billy had come out of the house and was hurrying to Eddie.

Eddie stopped and waited.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Billy said. “And see if you ever wanted to come back over and play some video games.”

“You’re welcome.” Eddie smiled. “And I sure would. Just remember, you don’t have to listen to a thing Billy says to you. He’s a punk.”

Billy shrugged. “He’s gone anyway. I don’t think he’s coming back.”

Tim watched as Eddie almost ended the conversation there but thought better of it. He was learning. Despite all their bickering, he was learning. There was always one more question you could ask, one more loop to close.

Eddie said, “What do you mean, gone?”

“He hasn’t been around since the fight in the kitchen.”

Eddie frowned.             

Billy said, “He’s been gone before, but I always knew he was still around. I don’t have that feeling now. I think you got rid of him.”

That was the last thing Tim wanted Eddie to hear. That would only serve to reinforce bad habits and poor procedure. The next time they had to deal with an intelligent haunting ...

Eddie said, “I’m glad.”

They slapped five.

“I’ll see you, pal.”

“Bye.”

Eddie watched Billy run back into the house and shut the door.

After they got a few minutes down the road, Tim decided it was time to clear the air.

“Ed, we have to talk.”

“Here we go. When you were just standing there shitting your pants, I took charge and saved the fucking day. How about I get a thank you?”

“Things worked out okay this time. But how you did it … That is not the way. You had no idea what Billy was capable of, either of them. It was reckless.”

“I got the job done. And you can’t handle that.”

“This time you did. But what about next time?”

“You know, you’ve been fuckin’ riding me my whole life about how I do shit, Tim. It’s time you backed off.”

“Your way of doing shit? Your way has gotten you where you are now. Jobless, living in my apartment, and nearly getting that family killed.”

* * * *

Moira pulled the headphones down around her neck.

“Done with this one. Is there anything else?” 

Stan paused what he was listening to. “Nah. I’ll finish up and listen to the rest. You can get out of here if you want.” But it sounded like he didn’t want her to go.

“How about anything from the day before? Would that be worthwhile?” she asked.

Stan shrugged. “You are a glutton. We recorded all of the interviews.”

“I’ll start with Billy’s. Didn’t they say the spirit was there talking to Billy during the interview?”

Stan nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that. Good idea.”

Stan found the right CD and handed it to her.

“I think you’re starting to like this part of the job,” Stan said.

She liked the company more than the job. And almost said as much. When was Stan going to make a move?

She put the headphones on again and hit PLAY. It was Eddie and Tim’s interview of Billy. She listened for a few minutes, then—

“These guys are assholes, especially Eddie.”

Moira sat up in her chair. She had already identified Eddie, Tim, and Billy on the tape. This was a fourth voice. She listened again.

“These guys are assholes, especially Eddie.”

Moira tapped Stan on the shoulder. “Listen.”

Stan grabbed the headphones and hit PLAY.

She watched as his eyes bulged. “Holy shit! We’ve never gotten EVP this clean before.”

Moira didn’t hear a word Stan said. Her mind was racing.  “I know that voice.”             

Stan said, “There’s more!”

“I know that voice …” She just couldn’t place it.

Stan said, “This is unbelievable. I understand every word.”

Suddenly it came to her, but it made no sense. She grabbed Stan’s shoulder.

“The voice, I know who it is.”

* * * *

“You’ve been doing this your whole life.” Tim was furious. Eddie wasn’t listening. He never did. “You never think anything through, and you leave a mess that I have to clean up.”

“I don’t need your help, Tim.”

“Really? How much money do you owe me?”

“Oh, fuck you. I said I’d pay you back.”

“I would have thought that—”

Tim’s cell buzzed. It was Moira. He let it go to voicemail. It reminded him he hadn’t spoken to Michelle yet today.

“Thought what?” Eddie asked.

“Forget it.”

“Say it.”

Tim exhaled. “After the accident. If that didn’t make you realize you can’t be reckless, I guess nothing would.”

“What?”

“Mom and Dad’s accident. You were acting up in the back, not thinking about what you were doing. It distracted Dad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I would have thought after all these years you would have realized.”

“No, really, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Tim’s cell buzzed again, signaling a voicemail. He reached down and grabbed it off the center console. He flipped it open.

“Tim, this is Moira. We caught some EVP—”

Eddie grabbed the phone and threw it into the back of the van. It clattered across the floor. “Tell me what you’re saying.”

“That stupid hand-held video game. You wouldn’t let go, even after Mom tried to take it from you.”

“Tim—”

“You distracted Dad,” Tim interrupted, “and you struggled with Mom. You both lost your grip when Dad hit a bump in the road. The game fell under his feet. He didn’t see the intersection coming up. He couldn’t stop.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This is how you’ve been your whole life. When are you going to learn?”

“Tim.”

“You’ll be thirty soon, and you can’t stay with me and Michelle when she moves in--”

“Tim!”

“—I love her, Ed. I think she’s the one and I don’t want you fucking that up for me.”

“Goddamnit, Tim! I was asleep.”

“You were—”

But Tim stopped.

Eddie had been awake. He remembered. Eddie had been awake in the car. He’d bickered ...

No, he hadn’t been. Tim remembered now. Eddie had been asleep.

* * * *

“Tim, turn the sound of that game off,” Dad said from the driver seat.

“I’m almost done. I made it all the way to the last level,” Tim said.

“Tim,” Mom said, turning around. “It’s late, and your Father is trying to drive.”

“But I can’t turn it down any more, it’s already as low as it can go.”

“Then turn it off,” Dad said.

Eddie was sound asleep next to him in the back.

“Dad, I’m almost done.”

“Now, Timothy.”

“Tim,” Mom said, unbuckling her seatbelt. She turned around and reached out. “Let me have the game.”

“Mom, come on—I’m almost done. Just one more guy to beat.”

“Now, young man.” She reached out again for the game, but he pulled it away from her.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “Give me the game right now.”

“Timothy—” Dad said, turning his head to look at him. “Give your mother that game right now.”

“But—”

Mom grabbed it, but he had almost beaten the final boss. He couldn’t see the screen, so he hit all the buttons quickly in a desperate attempt to beat the game.

“Tim!” Mom yelled.

They hit a bump in the road, and Tim lost his grip. So did Mom. The game tumbled through the air and landed under Dad’s feet. He looked down, taking his eyes off the road. He kicked his feet around.

“Bruce!” Mom yelled.

“Look out, Dad!”

* * * *

“Oh my God,” Tim said.

The car accident had been his fault. Not Eddie’s.

“Tim—”

Tim wasn’t watching the road.

“Tim, stop!” Eddie shouted.

Tim realized too late they were coming to a stop sign.

“Tim!”

Eamo
n
was sitting a foot away in the passenger seat but he didn’t hear a thing Chefaun said. She was talking to Sean on her cell phone.

He examined his new sneakers for the dozenth time. They were so white. The problem with new shoes was they didn’t stay new for long.

Chefaun hung up. “Sean’s going to barbecue tonight.”

“Oh.” Eamon kept his eyes on his sneakers.

“Definitely the last time this season, so let’s make it a good one.”

Eamon said nothing. So Sean would be outside, working the grill. Chefaun probably in the kitchen, cutting the meat and preparing the vegetables. Steven elsewhere, hopefully in his room. Everyone separate.

That was good.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

He looked over at her. “Today is three years.”

Chefaun took a deep breath. “Does that make you sad?”

How did she think it made him feel?

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“What good will it do?”

Chefaun pulled over to the side of the road and put the hazards on. She undid her seatbelt and faced him.

“Eamon.”

He couldn’t hold her stare. He didn’t like when she was affectionate with him. Mom had never been that way, so he wasn’t used to it.

“We’re your family now. We all love you very much. I know you and Steven don’t always get along, but I know for a fact that he loves you like a brother.”

Eamon said nothing.

“You and I are the newcomers to this family,” she said. “That makes us very close. Did you know that?”

He still said nothing. He didn’t feel close to anyone, not even her. But she was nicer to him than anyone else had ever been.

“Sean and Steven have been together for thirteen years. They’re father and son. You and I joined their family. Know what I mean?”

Eamon looked out the window.

“I love you, Eamon,” she said. “You’re my son. My special boy.”

But he wasn’t her son.

And even if he was, it wouldn’t mean anything.

* * * *

Tim’s body formed a right angle as he retched on the shoulder of the road. He heaved until his stomach was empty.

Tim brought himself up and wiped at his mouth. He spit a few times to get rid of the taste of bile.

“Let’s sit down.” Eddie walked him to the van.

Eddie opened the two rear doors. They sat. Tim put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. He still felt queasy. He took deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” he said, when he was able.

Eddie fished out his smokes. There was only one left. He lit it and inhaled deeply, one long drag.

“So now you know,” Eddie said.

“Now I know why you never brought up the accident, and now you know why I never did,” Tim said. “We were watching out for each other.”

Tim kept his eyes focused on the pavement three feet in front of him.

Eddie put his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward. “God.”

“Yeah. God.”

“I didn’t think it out, after the accident. You don’t think out your take on life when you’re ten years old. Maybe you never actually do. Maybe this is the first time I’ve ever thought it and said it out loud. But it’s always been there, ya know?”

Tim had no clue what Eddie was talking about. Instead of getting angry, like he usually did when he thought Eddie was speaking nonsense, he listened.

“After they died, I always saw life as something that could end at any minute. That there was no control over anything, only people fooling themselves into thinking they had control. At the funeral, Uncle Tom read off that list of things that Mom and Dad always wanted to do but never did. Do you remember that?”

Tim remembered.

“All I could ask myself was, why’d they keep putting those things off? I guess when you’re ten you don’t know shit about the real world. You don’t know what responsibilities are, that when you have a family, two young boys, you can’t go running around doing whatever the fuck you want whenever the hell you feel like it.

“But I didn’t know all that when I was ten. So I wondered what the fucking point of a plan was. Mom and Dad had one. They had more than one. And they never got around to any of them. They could have lived day-to-day, and they would have ended up the same way.”

Eddie took another long drag on his cigarette.

Tim looked at his brother. “I’m sorry about what I said to Moira.”

Eddie smiled crookedly. “You’re right. I need to get my shit together.”

“I’ll always be here for you, bro.” Tim looked at him. “Always.”

Eddie smiled. “Knowing me, I’m going to need it.”

“You’ll find your way. I know you will.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

Then Tim said, “Thank God I didn’t hit anyone.”

“Michelle called again after you pulled over. Here, I grabbed your phone out of the back.”

“Thanks.” Tim took the phone.

Tim was about to dial when he spotted the voicemail icon. It reminded him he hadn’t finished listening to Moira’s message. He’d call Michelle back in a minute. He connected to voicemail.

“Tim, this is Moira. We just caught some EVP—Billy is Eamon. It’s the same voice as on the police tape we watched. I’m sure of it. Call me back.”

Tim closed his phone.

“Jesus.” That couldn’t be good.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked.

“The spirit is Eamon.”

“Eamon … ?”             

Tim stood. Why was the alarm sounding in his head? He needed to focus. Pull his mind off the past and focus on the current information.

Tim said, “We caught EVP of him. And the voice sounded just like Eamon’s voice did on the police tape.”

But what did that mean?

Eddie said, “You said it was possible last night. That a living person could haunt a place.”

But it was ridiculous. Totally ridiculous. The stuff of untested theory.

And yet, Moira was certain.

Eddie said, “Hold on. What does it mean if the spirit’s gone? How does that affect Eamon?”

Tim opened his phone and called the Rossellis.

“Jackie, it’s Tim. Can I speak to Billy for a moment? No, no he’s not in danger … Thanks … Billy, I need to ask you something—has the spirit come back? … You’re sure … Okay. Thanks, Billy. Tell your parents everything is fine and we’ll call them a little later.”

Eddie stared at him, eyes wide.

Tim said, “I don’t understand what’s happening but it might be serious.”

Eddie stood. “It’s what we’re always telling clients. Thermodynamics. Energy can’t be created or destroyed. Only transformed.”

“Exactly. So where did all that energy go?”

“The McKennas.”

“We need to hurry.”

They jumped in the van. Tim put it in DRIVE and gunned it.

Eddie said, “It’s my fault. I pushed the ghost.”             

Normally Tim would have lectured Eddie but he stopped himself. “Not your fault, Eddie. There was no way you could have known.”

“I’ll call Charlie. And get him to call in all favors in Taberville.”

“Good idea.” Tim handed him the phone.

“How long will it take us?”

“Twenty-five if we’re lucky.”

Eddie said, “Voicemail.”

“Probably sleeping.”

“Charlie, it’s Eddie. Call me back when you get this. The McKennas could be in real danger. We need all the help we can get in Taberville. We’re on our way now.” Then to Tim: “Do you have the station’s number in here?”

“Call history.”

Eddie thumbed the keys and found the number. “Is Charlie Waite there? … Eddie McCloskey. Listen, there’s a family might be in danger in Taberville. Can you call anybody? … Thanks, and ask Charlie to call me when you get a chance.” He gave the dispatcher Tim’s phone number.

Eddie dialed 411. “Do you remember the name of Charlie’s friend in Taberville?”

“Bob Cooke.””

Hi, Taberville Police, please. No, I don’t need 911. Thank you.” Eddie waited for the line to connect. “Could I speak to Bob Cooke? … I see. Well, it could be an emergency, we’re not sure. The McKennas, they might be in danger. That boy, the Moriarty boy that lives with them—No, this isn’t a joke … Please just send a squad car …”

* * * *

“Hey, Eamon.” Sean opened the lid of the grill and scraped off some of the charred remnants of the last meal. “How was the session today?”

“Okay.”

“Let me see your new kicks.”

Eamon held up a sneaker.

“Pretty sharp.”

“When’s dinner?”

The sun had started to dip below the tree line. It looked like an orange slice hanging over the edge of a drink.

“I need thirty minutes, pal. Why don’t you go play with Steve?”

Eamon stood there, watching him labor over the grill. He had a strange look on his face, like he hadn’t heard Sean.

“You run inside and relax. I won’t forget to call you when it’s ready.”

“Where’s Steve?”

“Probably upstairs playing his games.”

Eamon didn’t move.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“What?”

Sean stopped what he was doing. “You okay?”

“Oh. Yeah.”             

Eamon went back inside. The family room was laid out just like it had been in his old house. This place reminded him of home in so many ways.

Chefaun was sitting on the couch, watching some movie with the sound turned up loud. She flicked him a smile then went back to her movie.

Eamon went into the kitchen and stopped near the sink.

Next to the sink was the wooden knife block, just like at home. Chefaun’s set of knives was very much like Mom’s had been. It was a fourteen-piece set made out of high-carbon stainless-steel. The largest knife was a carving knife. Its blade was nearly eight inches long, and its handle was wooden.

Eamon peeked back into the family room.

Chefaun was caught up in her movie, not watching him.

* * * *

“You getting a bad feeling about this?” Eddie asked.

“Eamon’s only thirteen. His whole family was murdered right in front of him. Chefaun said he’d been repressing everything. What if this sparks his memory all at once?”

Eddie shook his head.

Tim continued. “I’m a well-adjusted adult and I nearly just drove off the road when I remembered about Mom and Dad.”

“Fairly well-adjusted.”

Tim laughed. Eddie always found the humor. “And think about what he’s been telling Billy to do all this time. Dig up a grave. Kill your father.”

Eddie opened the phone again. “Do you have the McKennas’ number?”

“No, try 411.”

Eddie tried. “Unlisted.”

“You’d better call Stan and Moira.”

“Can’t that wait?”

“No.” Tim looked over at Eddie. “I want someone to know where we’re going. In case.”

Tim floored it and passed two cars.

Eddie said, “Moira, we’re on our way to the McKennas. Billy told us that the spirit has been gone since this morning, like permanently … I don’t know how he knows that, but listen—if it’s true, the McKennas could be in serious trouble right now … No, just try to get hold of Charlie. I don’t want you coming out there.”

* * * *

“What do you want, weirdo?” Steven asked. He was in the middle of a video game. Eamon was always bothering him at the worst times, about the dumbest stuff.

Eamon was standing in his doorway. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Steven couldn’t have been any less interested. “What’s that?”

“That you’re never going to call me any names again.”

“Okay, weirdo.”

“I mean it.”

“Did you figure this out in therapy today?”

“I did, actually.”

Steven looked at Eamon finally. He sounded different. Eerily calm. And he wasn’t fidgeting. He wasn’t looking down or away. He was staring into Steven’s eyes.

“Good for … you.”

“That’s right. It is good for me.”             

“O … kay.” Steven paused his game. Something was wrong. He wondered if Dad or Chefaun were inside or if they had both gone outside to work the grill. Eamon was acting weird.

Then there was a knock at the front door.