It's Your Party, Die If You Want To Page 5
“My team’s preliminary investigation of this little graveyard has already uncovered some exciting phenomena. Digital photography captured the presence of a rather large orb of light, and our EMF meters, which measure disturbances in the electromagnetic field, have detected anomalies in the graveyard area.
“But most exciting, our recordings have captured a Class A category electronic voice phenomenon. Class A EVP recordings are those that can be clearly heard without any sophisticated noise filtering equipment. Listen closely. One of our investigators is about to play back the voice that was recorded just a short time ago in this very cemetery. I should add that this will be the first time that the seekers here with me this evening will hear this. Are we ready, ladies?” she said, turning to us.
We silently nodded in unison. She cued her tech to play the recording.
There was what sounded like static, followed by a high-pitched, otherworldly voice saying, “Danger. Go back.” In a few seconds, the technician played it again, static followed by a female voice clearly saying, “Danger. Go back.”
For a moment I wasn’t sure if I was holding my breath or if I had stopped breathing. I heard gasps and murmuring around me. The eerie spell was broken when Miss Annabelle suddenly walked up to Lucinda and said, “Was that the dead cat talking?”
Someone yelled “Cut!” and Lucinda’s face withered into a scowl. She threw her hands in the air and walked over to her crew.
Miss Maybelle took Annabelle by the hand and said, “I’m sorry, maybe we’d better go back to the lodge. I think Sister is getting tired.”
We were trying to encourage her to stay. Lucinda came over to the group—Mr. Hyde had disappeared and she was wearing her Dr. Jekyll face again.
“No one needs to leave,” she said graciously. “We never record a whole episode in a single shot. I think we all needed to catch our breath after hearing that recording, don’t y’all?”
The women started chattering about how spooked they were.
“I may not have seen a ghost, but I tell you, icy fingers ran up my spine when you played that recording,” Nell said.
I noticed the tech with the camera on his shoulder was quietly circling us just outside the pool of light, trying to capture the moment unobtrusively.
“Lucinda, was that voice one of the people buried here? Can you make a psychic connection to find out who she is, or was?” Jasmine asked.
“I’m certainly going to try,” Lucinda said. “There are only two female names listed on these seven tombstones: Millie and Agatha. The voice sounded young to me, so it may have been Agatha, who was only fourteen when she died. We’ll see if we can make contact with her in just a few moments,” she said, gazing directly into the camera.
After her announcement about making contact, both Lucinda and the cameraman walked away from our group. Most of the group paid little notice to the camera, but Lucinda certainly never lost track of it.
During the lull, I pulled my smartphone out of my jacket pocket and shot a few photos with the camera, hoping to capture one of those orbs Lucinda had mentioned.
A member of the crew called for quiet as Lucinda returned to her host position. “And we’re rolling,” he said.
“The voice on the recording caused some excitement here in our group. It would seem that one of the spirits in this little cemetery has something to say. I will try to build a bridge between this world and the next by focusing my psychic energies or vibrations so that this spirit may communicate with us, if she wishes to do so.”
Lucinda closed her eyes, tilted her head back slightly, and held her hands out.
“Agatha, are you here?”
After a moment, Lucinda clasped her hands together and said, “I’m sensing something hot, very hot. Perhaps a fire or a high fever. Agatha, yes, Agatha suffered a high fever. I sense she and another member of her family died of yellow fever.
“Agatha, was it you who spoke on the recording? Is it your voice speaking of danger?”
Lucinda contorted her face and tilted her head slightly. “I see a girl with long brown hair wearing a white nightshirt. Agatha, is that you?”
After a moment, Lucinda said, “Yes. I sense strongly Agatha is the young girl in my vision. Agatha, do you wish to say something to us? Are you speaking of a present danger?” She paused. “Do you need our help?”
Suddenly, a desperate voice from behind me cried out, “Yes, please help me!”
I nearly jumped out of my skin before realizing it was the voice of Miss Maybelle.
“Annabelle’s gone. We have to find her,” she said with a note of panic.
I wasn’t thinking about it much at the time, but I’m pretty sure the cameras continued to roll, at least for a while, as our little drama unfolded.
A moment of chaos ensued before Winette took things in hand.
“Miss Maybelle, she couldn’t have gone far. Bryn, you and Nell take your flashlight and search in that direction. Liv and I will search over this way.” Winette motioned to indicate directions. “Someone better take Miss Maybelle back to the lodge to see if her sister is there. And some of you should stay here in case she comes back.”
We made our way into the woods, and Winette was walking so fast I could barely keep up.
“Shouldn’t we slow down and search this area more carefully?”
“The first thing we’re going to do is hurry down to the lake and pray to God that Miss Annabelle hasn’t fallen into the water,” she said.
“Oh, Lord. That thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I hope it hasn’t occurred to Miss Maybelle, either.”
“Me too,” Winette said.
The small flashlight brightly lit the path for about six feet in front of us, even in the dense woods. The trees thinned into a clearing, and I could see the light of a full moon reflecting off the water at the bottom of the hill. Reflective tape ran along the side of a small wooden pier.
We walked beside the lake, Winette shining the flashlight along the edge of the inky water, looking for footprints or any evidence that would indicate someone had been here recently. Then we walked onto the pier, looking for the same.
On a sunny day, standing on the pier or floating lazily in a canoe, the lake was lovely and welcoming. But here in the darkness searching for a missing person, it took on a sinister appearance.
“It couldn’t have been more than moments before Miss Maybelle realized her sister was missing,” I said. “And we practically ran down to the lake. I don’t believe Miss Annabelle could have made it here ahead of us.”
“We’ll hold that good thought,” Winette said. “There’s nothing more to see here, anyhow. Let’s start walking back and look more closely among the trees. She could have tripped over some brush and fallen.”
Winette scanned the flashlight once more over the surface of the lake before we started up the hill.
We made our way slowly through the woods, shining the flashlight in every direction and calling out her name. We heard a chorus of cicadas and other woodland noises I couldn’t identify and tried not to think about. In a few minutes, we heard the other voices calling “Miss Annabelle” moving closer to us, and we emerged from the trees about the same time as Nell and Bryn. We could see the pool of light cast over the cemetery by the television lighting equipment just a few yards away.
As we neared the graveyard I thought I saw movement along the edge of the woods. I clasped Winette’s hand and guided the flashlight toward the movement. The light fell on a pale figure. It was Miss Annabelle. She looked disoriented as she stumbled out of the woods and into the clearing.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Winette said, handing off the flashlight to me and rushing to take charge of our missing person. Miss Annabelle was visibly shaking. Winette peeled off her cardigan and wrapped it around the elderly woman’s trembling shoulders.
The man with the camera on his shoulder scanned to follow her.
Winette looked over to Lucinda and said firmly, “I don’t think there’s anything g
oing on here that needs to be filmed for public viewing.”
“Jeff, I think that’s a wrap,” Lucinda said.
The crew started disassembling the lights and cameras from their frames. Nell, Bryn, Winette, and I started walking with our lost lamb back toward the lodge.
Winette’s sweater hung generously from Miss Annabelle’s slight frame, the hem falling at her knees.
“Where’s my sister?” Miss Annabelle said, her eyes filled with bewilderment.
“She’s up at the lodge,” Nell said. “We’ve all been looking for you. Where did you get off to?
“I don’t know where I was, but I met these Sisters of the something-or-other holding a service by the fire. I thought it was odd they were nekkid, but since they were nuns I figured it must be okay,” she said. “Maybe their habits were in the wash.”
“Miss Annabelle, I don’t think they were that kind of sisters,” I said.
“Where’s my sister? Are we going to my house?” Miss Annabelle was obviously confused and shivering in the night air.
“We’re going to the lodge to see Miss Maybelle,” I said. “Remember the log building with the fire out back where we ate that good stew and corn bread for supper?”
“Could you get me some corn bread? I’m a mite hungry.”
“Sugar, I’m sure we can find you some corn bread. Don’t you worry,” Nell said, reaching over and putting her arm around Miss Annabelle’s slender shoulders.
The lodge was clearly in view, illumined by the porch light and the flames dancing in the fire pit, when the beam from the flashlight skimmed across something large lying on the ground several feet ahead of us.
As we neared the spot we suddenly realized the “something” was a “someone.”
“Oh, my God,” Bryn said. “It looks like someone has fallen.”
I hurried ahead and scanned the flashlight over the body and onto the face of Morgan Robison. Her glassy eyes were staring up blankly, and her lips were fashioned in a contorted smile. She was obviously dead.
Chapter 6
We all stood deathly quiet for a long moment, taking it in.
“Isn’t that the bank girl who can’t keep her hands off other people’s husbands?” Miss Annabelle said. Her memory, at least about some things, wasn’t failing her.
“Miss Annabelle, you and I need to go on in the lodge and find your sister. She’s worried about you,” Winette said. She began walking to the lodge, leading Miss Annabelle by the hand. “And somebody better call the sheriff,” Winette called out, glancing back over her shoulder.
I pulled the phone from my pocket. “Oh, I forgot, I can’t get cell reception out here.”
“I’ll go call from the landline in the lodge,” Bryn said.
“I’ll stay here with the, er . . . with Morgan,” I said.
“I’ll stay with Liv,” Nell said, much to my relief.
Even though we were close to the lodge, I didn’t relish the idea of holding vigil over a dead body by myself.
“Why does she have that awful look on her face?” Nell asked after the others were gone. “Do you think she was trying to say something or call out for help?”
“I don’t know. If she had screamed, surely one of the guys would have heard her, since they were outside clearing up after dinner.”
After what seemed like forever, but was actually only about ten minutes, Sheriff Davidson and Deputy Ted Horton arrived. As sheriff of Delbert County, Dave is responsible for all the unincorporated areas of the county, along with contract coverage of the municipalities, like Dixie, that are too small to have their own police department. The county is sparsely populated, but it’s a lot of ground to cover for Dave and his small band of deputies.
Dave came around the side of the building. I waved the flashlight in his direction. I could see through the lodge windows that Ted was in the great room, apparently giving instructions.
“Nell. Liv,” Dave said, nodding to each of us. “Has anyone touched the body?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Nell and I discovered the body, along with Winette, Bryn, and Miss Annabelle. None of us touched Morgan. She looked so obviously dead—with her eyes and mouth fixed like that.”
“When was this?”
“Bryn went to the lodge to call you just moments after we found her,” Nell said. “It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you got the call. And it’s been, what?” she said, looking to me, “maybe ten minutes or so since then?”
I nodded.
“Dave, you got here awful quick,” I said. “You didn’t drive all the way from Dixie, did you?”
“No, Ted and I were answering a domestic disturbance call over on Franken Road. Neighbor called and said somebody was screaming bloody murder. Turned out to be the neighbor’s goat making all the racket.”
One of the Grills on Wheels guys came out of the lodge and started walking toward us.
“Here’s one of our reserve deputies,” Dave said, nodding toward the young man.
“Deputy Horton said you wanted to see me, Sheriff.”
“Yeah, Eric. I want you to stay with the body until the medical investigator arrives. Make sure no animals, or people, interfere with the scene.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ladies, why don’t you come back to the lodge with me so we can start taking statements.”
“Sheriff, I guess it drives you nuts when you have to drive halfway across the county for a noisy goat,” Nell said.
“I’d rather have a call turn out to be nothing than turn out to be a dead body any day,” he said.
The sheriff, with his long strides, reached the lodge before us.
“Nell, I didn’t know Eric was a reserve deputy. Did you?”
“Yeah, Billy had mentioned it. But I think he’s only been on the force a few months.”
Dave was holding the screen door open for us.
The mood in the lodge was decidedly somber. It was also unusually quiet.
“Okay, folks,” the sheriff said, addressing the group. “We need to take individual statements, and we’ll try to move things along as quickly as possible. Like Deputy Horton has explained, we need y’all to refrain from talking amongst yourselves until we have statements from everyone. When someone starts talking about what they saw or what they heard, it’s easy for others to get mixed up about exactly what they saw or heard. We need to get the facts straight.”
“Sheriff,” Nell said, “do you think somebody killed Morgan?”
“We don’t know what happened here, and until we find out, we have to be open to all the possibilities. Now I’m going to start with statements from the caterers and the camera crew, since I understand they’re not spending the night on the premises. We’ll set up a couple of chairs in the hallway back here and call you back one at a time. Thank you for your patience.”
After Ted and Dave moved a couple of chairs to the hallway, Ted showed Dave a list of everyone who had signed up for the retreat, plus the names of Lucinda’s crew and the catering staff. “Okay, Billy, let’s start with you.”
Billy Tucker and Dave left the room and closed the door.
Ted suggested that since we weren’t supposed to talk, maybe we’d like to turn on the television that was sitting on a stand in the corner.
“It’s not hooked up to cable or anything. The only thing you can do is play DVDs on it,” Nell pointed out.
Ted walked over to the cart and pulled some boxes off the shelf next to the DVD player.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” he said, shuffling the boxes in his hands. “Looks like Groundhog Day, Hot Buns Aerobic Workout, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”
There was unanimous agreement on Groundhog Day.
We watched the movie in silence, except for an occasional question or comment from Miss Annabelle and an intermittent eruption of giggles from the rest of us.
Every few minutes, someone would exit the back hallway and Ted would send in the next person on the list.
“Ms. Grable, as we’re investigating a suspicious death, we’re going to need to look through all the footage your team shot tonight. Your guy here says he’d need your permission to hand it over.”
“Of course, Sheriff, we’re more than happy to cooperate with the authorities any way we can. Jerry, give the sheriff whatever he needs,” she said.
“Thank you, Ms. Grable,” Dave said, before saying something privately to Ted and then returning to the hallway with the next person on the list.
“Folks, I need to go out to the van to collect the video evidence. I’m going to leave you on your honor not to talk about the case,” Ted said.
I’m not sure if Ted was that naïve or just overly optimistic, but whispered conversations began as soon as the front door closed behind him.
“Miss Maybelle was an emotional mess, practically hysterical, by the time we brought her sister into the lodge. I think she would have needed medical help if Miss Annabelle hadn’t turned up when she did,” Winette said in a hushed voice.
“She had us all worried. I’m glad, at least, Miss Annabelle’s story had a happy ending tonight,” I said.
Sindhu leaned across from her club chair and touched Winette on the arm. “Do you think we stirred up some wrathful ghost that brought harm to Morgan?”
“I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but I think Morgan did a pretty good job of stirring up wrath among the living,” Nell interjected, in a voice louder than a whisper. “Karma, or whatever you call it, eventually bites you in the butt.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Winette said, responding to Sindhu. “But I do believe in spirits, both good and evil.”
“Which do you think we’re dealing with?” Sindhu said.
“Well, since a woman is dead, I’m going with evil,” Winette said, eliciting silence from the group.
Dave walked into the room, along with another member of the camera crew.
“Can I go next?” Lucinda asked. “I’d like to catch a ride back to the hotel with my crew. I really don’t want to stay here tonight, under the circumstances.”