Red Water, Shadows of Camelot Crossing Page 11

  This explanation came as a great relief to the family. It was far better than some toxic spill or biological material, really any of the frightful causes that had been playing out in their minds.

  Mr. Wheeler started the pump. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on it," he said as he got in his truck.

  Hazel stood at the window and watched as the pool slowly emptied, reliving the terrible events. Holden had scarcely left his room since retreating there after his shower the day before.

  There had been no further reminders from Alexa to check the pool. Had the AI somehow sensed the impending disaster that awaited them while swimming? That was an unsettling notion. A psychic Alexa—crazy, yes, but crazier things had happened so far that year. Hazel wondered if the unknown entity was happy now. The pool had been checked after all. Shrugging her shoulders to no one but her own scattered thoughts, she turned her back on the receding red waters of the pool and retreated to her room. Miren was never going to believe this latest occurrence. She didn't have the courage to attempt to FaceTime her best friend, so she just made a phone call.

  By the end of the day the pool was empty, and a few inches of thick, red mud clung to the large crack. Mr. Wheeler set up some orange cones and caution tape, as if anyone would see the empty shell as inviting.

  Twenty-Two

  A day later, heavy machinery arrived to break up the cracked cement so a deeper hole could be dug to the depth needed for a diving pool. Unfortunately, there would be no more swimming until next summer, but the season would be winding down soon anyway. The family continued to avoid the backyard. No longer repulsed by the red water, but repelled on a more visceral level, something they sensed warned them to steer clear.

  Mr. Wheeler, having been in the town and the business for many years, called in favors and was able to obtain an "emergency" permit to expedite the process.

  The concrete was quickly broken up and hauled away, but a few stormy days delayed digging.

  The family had taken to eating in the formal dining room, distancing themselves from the slow progress and to avoid being reminded of their last day in the pool. But the distance wasn't far enough to block out the noise as the rain delay ended and work began.

  They sat eating a lunch of leftovers as a familiar brown truck stopped in front of their house. The driver placed a package on their doorstep with practiced speed. Without speaking, Mom grabbed sanitizing wipes and spray and retrieved the package before the driver had made his way back onto Sheffield Court.

  "It's Bailey's memorial stone," she said sadly, as she went about killing off any germs. "I can't wait to see it, but it will have to sit here for twenty minutes before we can open it." The reminder wasn't necessary, since Mom's sanitizing system was now just part of their own new norm. The trio heard the foot pedal of the trashcan and water running as Mom washed her hands far longer than the recommended twenty seconds. She returned to the entryway, placing her cleaning materials back in the closet.

  As she joined the group at the table to finish her lunch, she asked, "Has anyone had any weird experiences lately?"

  Hazel spoke first. "Not really. Things have quieted down, even the running sound on the stairs." She had still told no one besides Miren of her sighting of Laura Combs, nor of all the other troubling incidents she had experienced.

  Holden agreed. "You're right. Alexa hasn't reminded me of anything I didn't need to be reminded of. She's only played the music I've asked her to play, and I haven't seen any ghostly specters in the hallway lately. Nice catch, Mom."

  This was the first time Holden had given any hint he had issues with Alexa's music options and that he may have also seen Laura Combs. Well, he didn't say it had been Laura Combs, but rather a "ghostly specter" in the hallway. She needed to know more. Maybe when they were alone, she would have a better chance to pry some details out of him.

  "Well, I guess that's one thing to be thankful for," Dad said, getting up with his empty plate. "Gotta get back to the rat race. Bring the memorial stone in and show me if you don't mind. Once it isn't a biohazard, that is."

  Mom wasn't fazed by their jabs about her extreme germ avoidance measures. "Sure thing, hon. Have a good afternoon. I'll take that for you," she said, taking his plate and giving him a peck on the cheek. She left the twins in the dining room to busy herself in the kitchen.

  Hazel pushed her plate back and turned to Holden. "Did you actually see something in the hallway?"

  Holden was still chewing his food but Hazel detected a brief pause, and she could see the question had thrown him off as he realized he had let more slip than he had intended. Finally, he spoke. "I'm really not up to such a controversial topic. Maybe we could have a lively discussion about say, politics or religion."

  "I'm serious. I won't think you are crazy, because I saw something too," she admitted, trying to ease his mind and convince him to open up.

  He took a deep breath, "Okay, yeah. I've seen something outside your bedroom door, more than once. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to scare you. She's shown up on my computer too. At first her name would show up on Discord, requesting to friend me or join a game in Steam. I just ignored it, even thought it might be you messing with me, but things got worse. I'd be in a game and things would glitch out and then there's this girl asking for my help. None of my friends could see it, just me. It was beyond sketch."

  More than once? Didn't want to scare her? She tried to temper her anger at her brother making this admission now, only after she had to drag it out of him. She’d had to endure sleepless nights being taunted by nightmares, the humiliating night spent on their parents’ couch, the ladybugs, officially self-declaring FaceTime off-limits, all of it. She had believed she alone was experiencing visits from the missing girl.

  "What did you see?" she asked.

  "A girl. She looks like the girl in the news story, Laura Combs. Sometimes when I'm done brushing my teeth at night, she is standing in the hall looking at your door. Not gonna lie, it freaks me out. I close my eyes and when I open them, bam! she's gone. I should have said something before now, but seriously, what would I say? 'Hey Haze, you got a new friend who comes over, in a town where we know no one, during a pandemic, unannounced? Do Mom and Dad know? You should introduce her. And what's up with her poofing?' Who would believe me?"

  "I believe you because I've seen her too. But only once outside my room. Well, on my phone too, in a SnapChat filter. It was weird. Oh, and she crashed a FaceTimeing sesh with Mir." She decided to give her brother a little more. "I ran to Mom and Dad's room and slept on their couch."

  Holden lost it. Through his laughter he said, "And here I always thought I was the weaker twin."

  It was nice to laugh, even if it was over the most absurd thing imaginable. The two hadn't shared a secret since they were in the fifth grade. Hazel couldn't remember what the secret was, but she was certain it was something incredibly scandalous, like who they were crushing on. She would have never thought they would be laughing over seeing a ghost in their hallway during a global pandemic. But she was glad to have this moment of … normalcy seemed like the wrong word, but that's what it was. It was a normal moment with her twin. He grabbed her head and gave her a normal noogie.

  "Stop it!" She feigned injury and halfheartedly tried to pull away.

  In the kitchen, with her back turned away from the construction zone outside, Mom listened to their laughter. It was her favorite sound, one she hadn't heard in months. It was almost therapeutic. She didn't know what they were talking about, and she didn't care. Just to hear them being kids made her realize the toll the past few months had taken on them all. First the pandemic, then the move, the loss of Bailey, all the baffling events and now the terrifying experience with the pool. Nothing had been right for a long time. The family had done their best to remain hopeful, knowing they were in a far better situation than many. Hearing the laughter of her children gave her a sense of peace and calm and a renewed hope that better days were to come. She closed her
eyes and listened.

  The presence heard the laughter. It missed laughter. A dire situation for those it loved had pushed it to this point. Now the presence felt hopeful as well. Changes were coming, and the presence knew the changes would lead to good things—relief, peace, and calm. Wrongs would be righted. It was only a matter of time now. A very short time.

  Twenty-Three

  Although the Oklahoma summer was doing exactly what every Oklahoman expected it to do, the team employed by Sunscapes were on the job, seemingly unaffected by the blistering sun and unrelenting humidity of late summer.

  The family stood at the large sliding door upstairs in the not-yet-completed theater room to get the best view of the groundbreaking. An excavator stood at the far end of the yard, a dump truck nearby ready to haul off the excess dirt. The long arm of the machine reached forward, piercing the red earth. The family cheered, and Mom and Dad clinked their coffee mugs together. None of them noticed the presence that manifested behind them. Looking over their shoulders was a thirteen-year-old girl. She had waited thirty-six long and lonely years for this very moment.

  Alek Vander stood watching intently while he relished the iced coffee in his thermos. He was spotting the excavator who really didn't need a spotter—Val Meyhan had been at this job since Alek had been in diapers. She knew what she was doing, but rules were rules, so he watched and savored the chilled brew, one of the perks of dating a barista. As Val lifted another load of dirt, he spotted something in the bucket.

  He almost wrote it off as a branch or a root, but when the sun caught the object, he realized it couldn't be a root—roots weren't blue and didn't wear clothes. At least, it looked like clothes to him. Maybe it was nothing, but it warranted inspection before they moved forward. He had a hunch, a feeling that whatever it was should not be ignored.

  Silently acknowledging to himself that he would likely be the butt of many jokes for weeks to come, he yelled, "Stop! Stop the digging!"

  Val was in the groove, as she liked to put it, and wasn't happy about her momentum being broken. She loved the job, and knew she was one of the best. She didn't know why this youngster was interrupting her progress.

  "This better be good," she hollered down.

  "Lower the boom if you don't mind, Val. Sorry, but something caught my eye."

  She was irritated. Alek could already hear his crew's laughter as they mocked him for halting a dig to treasure hunt.

  Val expertly lowered the bucket to the ground. As Alek approached, he knew his instinct was right. Sitting on top of the dirt he saw the blue item that had caught his eye. It was a watch, and there were definitely clothes. The watch and clothes were attached to what he believed was a human arm bone.

  Alek dropped his thermos, ice and coffee spilling over his boots. He took several steps back, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out as his mind searched for words.

  His coworker, Jimmy Glass, had taken the borrowed time to check his Facebook page but glanced up and forgot about how many likes the picture of his cat had gotten. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he started to make his way to the boom. When he saw Alek's reaction, he picked up the pace. Jimmy stopped short when he saw the shocking sight the bucket held.

  "Val, we need to put this project on hold. Call the boss!" yelled Jimmy, waving up to his coworker.

  Val killed the engine and hopped down. She could see the alarm in her younger cohorts and wanted to get things checked out so they could get back to work. She was certain she could get things sorted and back on track without a call to the project leader. The temperature was only going to keep rising, after all. Pulling a bandanna from her back pocket, she wiped sweat from her face and approached the bucket.

  "Like I said, this better be …" She stopped, a chill coming over her as the sweat dripping down her back turned cold. This would definitely warrant a call to the boss, but first she was calling 9-1-1.

  From the window, the family was confused by the activity below.

  "Oh, come on, don't tell me there's trouble already," Dad said worriedly.

  "I wonder what's up," said Mom.

  As the family turned to head downstairs and check on the project, the fifth spectator faded away. Her presence was no longer needed.

  Twenty-Four

  When the call came in to the Stillwater Sheriff’s Department, there was some discussion as to who should handle it. Skeletal remains weren't exactly an emergency. Besides, the bones might not actually be human.

  Deputy Craig Mitchell volunteered to go take a look. He had been a rookie under Sheriff Reed before the sheriff's retirement and was a Stillwater native. His sister Cami had been one of Laura's classmates. He and his sister grew up in the aftermath of Laura's disappearance, when parents grew more watchful and the town held its breath in fear, small town innocence shaken to its core.

  His father spent days with the search party while his mother cooked and delivered meals to the searchers. Cami asked endless questions about where Laura could have gone, and whether she was all right. His parents had done their best to assure her that Laura was fine, and she'd be home someday soon. Young Craig saw the fear in the questioning glances they exchanged as they tried to ease his sister's mind. The reality dawned on him that his parents were lying to them, possibly for the first time.

  The cold blast of his cruiser's air conditioning did little to cool the heat he felt as one phrase repeated itself in his mind. The caller says it appears to be an arm bone, and it was still wearing a watch, a blue watch.

  As he turned into Camelot Crossing, there was little doubt in his mind someone had found the long-missing girl. By the time he arrived on the scene, the Weizaks had been informed by Val Meyhan that something disturbing had been found during their dig, and she had contacted authorities.

  "You folks can wait inside the house. I'll keep you posted," she said, before walking toward the deputy's car that was crossing the bridge.

  Dad held Mom up, and her face had drained of all color. He guided her into the living room and eased her down onto the couch.

  "Mom? Dad? What's wrong? What's going on?" Hazel asked.

  The two were silent as Mom sat shaking her head. Hazel's confusion increased the longer they went without speaking. The quiet was finally broken when Mom whispered, "It's horrible."

  "What? What is so horrible?" Holden asked.

  "They think they've found a human bone," Dad said, sitting down next to Mom, pulling her close to him as she started to cry.

  He didn't have the chance to elaborate as he was interrupted by the doorbell. "Stay with your mom," said Dad, getting up to answer.

  The three sat stunned, listening to the murmur of Dad's conversation with the deputy. Mom continued to sob quietly. Dad returned a short time later.

  "He's going to confirm it is human and if it is, our land will be a crime scene."

  Mom's sobs grew deeper, and she buried her head in Holden's shoulder. Hazel got up and Dad followed her over to the window. They watched as Val took the sheriff deputy to the site. He motioned for her to step back and pulled his radio off his belt.

  It was quickly determined that the bone was human. From that point on, their lives became something out of a television crime show. A never-ending caravan of official vehicles filled the expansive horseshoe driveway, and their property was strung with police tape. While none of them were considered suspects, they were all interviewed. Thankfully, they never had to leave their home. The agents and officials were respectful, wore masks, and stayed as distant as possible while performing the functions necessary to do a thorough investigation.

  Agents from The Oklahoma State Medical Examiner’s Office, the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation, and the Payne County Sheriff’s Department worked around the clock. The night sky was lit up by large, intrusive lights, making it seem as if the sun never set. The curtains stayed drawn, but they weren't enough to block the unnatural light and the relentless sounds, the horror of what was unfolding in the backyard. It wa
s an unspoken given that the body being unearthed had to be that of Laura Combs.

  News crews circled like vultures waiting to swoop down on their prey. Reporters stood wired for sound in hopes they might get a word out of an official, or better yet, catch a resident of the house of nightmares. The Weizaks avoided the press, but worried that their home would be seen by so many people under such horrible circumstances. They faced the sad reality that they and their home would become synonymous with such a dreadful thing.

  There was no more running on the stairs, and the discovery of the body seemed to lay to rest some of the questions that had plagued their minds. The message on Hazel's wall, Alexa's urgings to check the pool, even the swarm of ladybugs now made sense, sort of. Not so much in a practical way, but they were clues contrived by the girl, somehow, from somewhere. Many unanswered questions still hung in the air; who knew if they would ever be answered?

  Each of them dealt with the trauma differently. There were logistical, day-to-day obligations that had to be taken care of, like taking the dogs out, checking the mail and such. Routines were adjusted, and a hold was placed on their mail as they fought to avoid the press, steer clear of investigators, and maintain some sense of anonymity.

  Dad immersed himself in work while acting as the contact authorities spoke to regarding progress, next steps, and anything else that was taking place outside. More people arrived, bringing with them new machinery. They put up tents and laid out grids that reached further and further into their yard and the woods. There was always something new every day. He handled it impressively, like a businessman. He held himself and his family together.

  While he never broke down, he felt the weight of the situation. Yes, he was devastated at the tragic loss of life and was tormented it had happened so close to the bed where he and his wife slept. He lay awake most nights riddled with guilt for leading the call for his family to choose this place, this house that now held so many frightening memories. He pored over spreadsheets and budgets, wondering what the impact of selling would be. Who would buy it now with all the bad publicity? He hoped he could rally his family to move past this eventually and come to love the house again, and he started budgeting for an exterior remodel. Perhaps a fresh face for the house might make a difference.