Kneeling on the floor and cradling her father as he was slumped on the sofa, Reese turned her head to Wayne expecting to see him wielding a gun or a knife. But his hands were empty of any armaments. His expression of surprise melded to one of smugness.
“Your father’s crazy, huh?” Wayne said.
Before Reese could open her mouth to respond, Paul piped up, the words grating. “Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on or I’m calling the police on the lot of you.” His knuckles were white from gripping the knife handle so tightly and his eyes darted from Wayne to Reese and back to Wayne.
“Don’t call the police, Paul,” Reese said.
“Why in God’s name not?” Paul looked pissed and continued to hold the knife as if he might use it. “This is beyond ridiculous.”
“Beyond ridiculous?” Wayne said incredulously. “I’m not going to press charges against Mr. Caldwell. Why would you call the police?”
“Two girls are missing,” Paul said through gritted teeth.
“Put the knife down, Paul,” Reese said. She didn’t pay attention to whether he did as she said or not. She looked up to Wayne from her position on the floor and said, “Where’s Addie, Wayne?”
Wayne narrowed his eyes to near slits. “I. Don’t. Know. Where. Addie. Is.”
“But you know where Lucy is?” She wanted so badly to let go of her father. She was in an uncomfortable stance but didn’t want to take her eyes off of Wayne. Sure enough his eye twitched ever so slightly.
Wayne said nothing. He slipped his bulking hands into the pockets of his slacks.
Reese craned her body to look full on at Paul. The coloring was surfacing in his knuckles but he continued to hold the knife as if he might need to protect himself.
“Addie was safe as of this morning, Paul. We saw her with our own eyes. Unfortunately the police won’t be able to help much with Lucy. She’s a grown woman. We can spend time with the police explaining why we think she’s in danger, but that’s time we could be using to locate both her and Addie.”
“Thus the séance?” Wayne said sarcastically, suppressing a grin.
“What about your dad, Reese? He said Wayne is going to kill you. Aren’t you just a little bit nervous about that statement? And he should probably get to a doctor.” Paul seemed to have run out of patience, but at least he lowered the knife to the patio table, although his grip on it was still firm.
Reese was relieved when she felt her father shift his weight off of her and adjusted himself to sit upright. She held onto his arm in an attempt to steady his wobbly movements. He grimaced as he touched his swollen cheek with his fingertips. He pulled his hand away from his face and looked at it. Apparently satisfied there was no gushing blood, he lowered his hand to his side.
“No doctors. I’m not leaving Reese alone.” His voice was surprisingly strong for a man who appeared so fragile.
“Dad, if you need to see a doctor …” Reese started to say, but her dad interrupted.
“No. I’m fine.” She shifted his weight some more so he didn’t rely on Reese for any support.
“Why did you attack Wayne?” Reese asked as she stood from her kneeling position and sat next to Mr. Caldwell.
Wayne moved just an inch forward and his hands slid from his pockets. Paul lifted the knife a hair from the table, not in a direct threatening gesture, but more as a reminder that he was in no mood for any nonsense. Wayne settled back into an unperturbed posture. His hands slipped back into the pockets.
“I don’t know.” Mr. Caldwell looked down at his knees when he spoke and Reese got the distinct feeling he was holding back.
“Dad, you said he was going to kill me. Why did you say that?” She rubbed his arm in a comforting motion.
Mr. Caldwell shifted his gaze from his knees to Reese’s hand, but he said nothing. Paul, Wayne, and Reese all stared on at Mr. Caldwell as if he would divulge some top secret inormation.
When the silence dragged on for a full minute, Paul said in Wayne’s direction, “Do you know why he attacked you? And don’t tell me some bullshit that he’s crazy. I’m getting kind of tired of this little game of charades.”
Wayne stretched his shoulders back and jutted out his chin. “Why don’t you ask my father? Isn’t that what you came for, Mr. Medium?”
Paul released the knife so it was flat on the table. His face stiffened and his stare-hold on Wayne never sway as he said, “Put the chairs around the table, Wayne, and pray to God your father doesn’t have something to say that you don’t want us to hear. Reese, stay with your father while I’m in the kitchen. Make sure he doesn’t kill your guest.” Paul snatched up the chef’s knife and turned his back on his audience. None of them moved as Paul made his way to the kitchen. It wasn’t until he made a racket gathering all of the knives from the butcher block, tossing them into the dishwasher, and slamming the door, that they jumped into action. Wayne and Reese placed the chairs around the table, each exactly the same distance from one another. The microwave whirred to life in the kitchen and pretty quickly the aroma of warm bakery goods wafted into the living room.
Paul returned with a plate of steaming muffins and the plastic bag of candles. He placed the plate in the middle of the table and then strategically set the candles around the plate. He lit one and then used it to light the other three. As he busied himself with his chores, the attendees all watched. Reese for one was fascinated and asked, “What’s with the muffins, Paul?”
Without looking up from staging the table, Paul said, “I have had luck with using props to draw spirits at a séance. Spirits who were once human are often drawn to pleasant scents and lights, same as when they were alive. They serve as a beacon if you will.” He balled up the plastic bag and tossed it under the table.
“Before we proceed, I must ask,” Paul started and lightly placed his fingertips on the table as he glanced from one person to another, “are you each willing to participate in this séance with an open-mind?” He stopped glancing around once he was looking at Reese. She nodded in agreement. He slowly gave her a reassuring nod back and shifted his attention to Mr. Caldwell. Reese’s father didn’t engage eye contact. Paul waited a few respectable seconds and then said, “Mr. Caldwell?”
Reese looked over to her dad. He nervously traced the bruised cheek and she fought the instinct to touch her own bruised forehead.
“Landon?” Paul said authoritatively.
Mr. Caldwell lifted his head and looked at Paul. “Open-minded,” he said.
“Very good,” Paul offered a small smile to the older man but Mr. Caldwell looked away before he could register it.
Paul rotated his head to Wayne who looked only a little bit uneasy. Wayne twisted his body back and forth with his hands jammed further into his front pockets. “Wayne? Can you proceed with this séance with an open-mind?”
Wayne pulled his right hand from his pocket and rubbed his chin. He looked at Paul and then over to Reese. “What does that mean? Open-minded?”
Although he seemed to be addressing Reese, Paul answered and Wayne rotated his attention to him. “It means you are open-minded to receive possible messages from spirits who have passed. It means you can participate and not be negative during the course of the séance.”
Wayne lifted his hand in Paul’s direction like a teacher at the front of his class, trying to make a point. “Why are you trying to make contact with my father?”
Reese quickly turned to Paul to watch his reaction to the question. She was proud of him. He didn’t flinch even in the most inconspicuous way. “We have reason to believe Mr. Albreck has already attempted to contact Reese. It seems appropriate to verify this is in fact true and if so, what does he want with her.”
“Curious.” Wayne twirled his body to Reese and then continued on until he shifted ninety-degrees. He pointed a finger to the boarded sliding door. “Is this his attempt to get your attention?”
Again she fought the urge to touch her forehead. “Wayne, are you in or not?” She said. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of running the show.
He looped his oppressive body back to her in a near playful manner with a grin plastered on his face. “Oh, I’m gained. This should be fun.”
“In that case,” Paul said. He pointed to the chair across from him. “Reese.”
She stood and approached the chair. She stood behind it until Paul directed her to sit. She was relieved he had taken the reigns and was quite enamored by his controlling the situation. He was in his true element and despite the circumstances; she was excited to witness his skills.
“Wayne,” Paul said and gestured to the chair closest to Wayne, between Reese and himself and far away from Mr. Caldwell. Wayne stepped forward and followed Reese’s suit. He stood behind the chair with his fingers draped over the back of it.
Mr. Caldwell didn’t wait for his invitation. He walked to the last chair, head drooping in a sad bob.
Paul cleared his throat. “Please silence your phones.” Reese hurriedly shot a glance to Paul, but he wouldn’t look back at her. She was afraid she might miss a return call from Gregory. There was a few seconds of scurrying as they each adjusted their phones; Mr. Caldwell leaving his post to pick his jacket off the floor and digging into the pocket for his phone. Reese watched as he looked at the screen as if he was reading a message. He hovered for a few seconds and then slipped the phone into his back pocket, trying hard not to show off the smile on his face. Reese was about to ask him about the message when Paul said, “are we ready to begin?”
Mr.. Caldwell returned to the circle looking a little more upbeat and not so weighted down with whatever had been bugging him. “Yes,” he said.
“Very good. Will everyone please take your seat?”
Paul waited until the shuffling of chairs ended before pulling his own out and sitting. He scooted close to the table.
Although Reese was anxious to start the séance, she wanted desperately to ask her father about the phone message. Whatever it was it had shifted his mood tremendously. Maybe the message was from her mom saying they were fine. But her mother didn’t even have a cell phone, did she?
“Normally I would ask that we all hold hands, but I believe I will forgo that formality this time. However, if everyone would be so kind as to bow your head in reverence.” Again Paul waited for all participants to follow his request before proceeding. He said a brief prayer of appreciation and asked that his spirit guides work with him to have a safe and productive communicative session with the deceased. He raised his head and the others did likewise.
Paul stared into the candles. At first they flickered as candles do, but the longer Paul stared, the more pronounced the flames grew. They rose steadily and tall until they were unnaturally long and straight. Their glow was nearly white and surreal. Reese wondered how he performed the trick so effortlessly.
When he spoke, Paul’s voice was clear and concise. “Mr. Albreck, we invite you to join our group. We are eager to communicate with you.” He stopped speaking but never swayed his sight from the candles. They continued in their obscene display of power. All eyes were now transfixed on the flames as if everyone was hypnotized.
“Mr. Albreck, your son, Wayne, is here if you have any messages to relay to him.”
Over the flames which appeared nearly half a foot tall at that point, Reese saw Wayne whip his head to Paul. Paul didn’t look in his direction.
“Mr. Albreck …” Paul started but the flames flickered as if a draft of air had blown them. “We are here to help you. If you have any messages you would like me to relay to your son, I am here to listen.”
“You have the wrong guy,” said a throaty voice. Reese heard it, but she watched Wayne. He didn’t seem to hear anything unusual such as his dead father talking.
“Can you explain what you mean by that?” Paul asked in a voice no different than one he would use in regular conversation at a party.
“Is he talking to you?” Wayne asked looking stunned.
“You have the wrong guy,” the voice repeated but this time it was deeper and sounded agitated.
“Spirit, are you Mr. Aaron Albreck?” Paul said, seemingly not fazed by the alteration in the spirit’s tone.
“Why do you call for me?” The voice boomed and Reese resisted the urge to cover her ears. Neither her father nor Wayne seemed to hear it.
“Ask him where Luke is,” Reese said in a rush.
Paul shifted his glance to Reese. She felt cold suddenly but wasn’t sure if it was Paul’s look or Mr. Albreck’s presence.
“You have no business with Luke,” the spirit reprimanded.
“Like hell I do!” Reese retorted. She felt like a cork exploding from a champagne bottle.
“Who are you talking to, Reese?” Wayne demanded. "Can you hear him?"
“If everyone could please keep your comments to yourself during the course of the séance. Let’s please show some respect to the deceased.” Paul said firmly.
“Paul, he obviously knows …”
“Reese, please. We will get to Luke. For now, let me conduct this before it gets out of hand.” Paul focused on the candles again. He waited until everyone else automatically did the same thing. The flames had shrunk back down to a normal size, but as they all looked on, they began to grow again.
Paul took a deep inhale, the sound audible in the now quiet room. “Spirit, we are truly appreciative you have come to visit with us. Do you have a message you want to share with us?”
There was a long breath of silence before the new bulb in the lamp started to vibrate. Paul was the only one of the group who didn’t flinch and look toward the lamp. “Spirit, we are here to help you. You do not need to show your anger. We understand if you are indeed Mr. Albreck, you have cause to be angry about your demise. Do you or do you not have a message to relay? If not, we ask that you make your departure.”
“No!” Reese screamed and jumped out of her chair.
The bulb burst, making a loud pop that startled everyone.
“Reese! Sit down!” Paul commanded.
“Don’t let him go! We need to find Luke! He knows where he is!”
“Reese, last warning, or I will end this all together.”
“Ask your father what the message said,” Mr. Albreck’s spirit boomed over the already loud conversation.
Reese felt as if she was punched in the stomach. She turned to her father.
“Reese, please sit down,” Paul begged.
“Dad?” Reese said, completely ignoring Paul. “Dad?”
Mr. Caldwell looked up. “Yes, Reese?”
“Who was that text message from? The one you read right before you sat down?”
Mr. Caldwell frowned and disengaged eye contact with his daughter. He looked over to Wayne.
“Dad, let me see your phone.” She held out her hand.
“No, Reese,” he answered, almost cowering.
“Mr. Caldwell, is there something on your phone relevant to the girls’ disappearance?” Paul asked. “The spirit here seems to believe we should know what the message is.”
“This spirit is evil, Paul. We should never have done this,” Mr. Caldwell said looking at Paul, careful to avoid his daughter.
“Oh, do share with us, Landon,” Wayne smirked.
Reese’s skin crawled with goose bumps. Did Wayne know what was going on? Why the hell did everyone know what was going on except her? She wasn’t a child. They didn’t need to protect her anymore.
Her father snarled at Wayne, which only made Wayne smile bigger.
Suddenly the table bounced as if a mighty fist had slammed it. The candles hopped up and over onto their sides, flames dowsed by the brisk motion.
“Alright, alright!” Mr. Caldwell hollered and yanked his phone out. His hand trembled as he presented it to Reese.
She stared at it, afraid to read the message. But then she snapped it out of her dad’s hand, feeling pissed for all the secrecy. How could he have kept so much from her all those years? She opened the message and immediately saw it was from Gregory. Gregory!
Sorry Mr. C. didn’t have time to warn you not to come to the house. Addie’s safe from Reese. Call when it’s all clear.
Reese reread the message three times. It wouldn’t sink in. Safe from Reese? She felt shocked almost as much as the day her twin brother was found dead in the creek.
“Why do you have to keep Addie safe from me, Dad?” Reese heard her own words but they seemed far away.
“Because you’re a murdering nutbag, Reese. You killed your own brother. Your dad’s afraid you’ll kill your own sister too,” Mr. Albreck’s spirit said. Reese looked around, expecting to see Aaron Albreck’s ghost, but there was nothing, no one else other than the living séance participants. Wayne still wore the eat-shit grin and her father looked horrified and miserable since handing her his phone. Paul only looked stunned. His face was drained slightly of color. He heard the words from the dead man’s lips, same as Reese.
“That’s a lie,” Reese murmured. Her cheeks grew hot from the anger boiling inside of her. “You fucking believe I killed Luke?” She screamed. She threw her father’s phone at the makeshift plywood door same as her brother used to throw his fastballs. She was midair ready to rip her father’s eyeballs out when Paul jumped on her, all three smashing to the floor.
Wayne looked on at the spectacle, crossed his massive arms over his chest and laughed.