Angel Watch at Blacknest: A Supernatural Mystery Page 6

  Colin McNeil

  As head of the McNeil clan, I feel it is my responsibility in life to watch over my own. Today I am assessing how far off the deep end my dear wife, Lily has fallen this time. Her side of the family is an old magic Irish Clan. I had no idea before I married her how deeply they all believed in Fairies and the Wee Ones (Leprechauns). She has little Fairy Stations (I call them) all through the garden; statutes of fairies with trinkets, flowers and fruit lying by the statutes. It looks terrible and is a damn nuisance. She talked to the trees, flowers and who knows what else, as she skips about like a lunatic in the mornings. She is always pointing out fairies to me; of course I never see any. She always says they are too fast. She calls them little tricksters.

  Our only child Keelie is home this weekend. She has never given us any trouble. She has always been a very interesting child. She is gifted with the second sight, something passed down to her from my mother, Mary Elizabeth. As a small child she would tell me of future events. One I recall was a train derailment outside of town. It happened exactly as she described. She was only six years old at the time. Throughout her childhood, she had many premonitions. The Academy teachers would tell me stories as well; things she had confided in them. They all thought she was very special. I wonder if that was how the military found out about her special abilities; from one of her teachers. As an adult she was recruited by the U.S. government for a very secret remote viewing program. Keelie tells us, she loves her job, but can't tell us a thing; top secret. She did tell us that she rarely works in the U.S.A.

  Supper is served outside under the gazebo. Lily, Keelie and I talk as we eat our steaks and salad. Tomas, our butler barbecued the steaks and served. When he serves he doesn't speak. It is almost like he is invisible. I don't like the help to talk unless they have been spoken to first by a family member. I think it keeps them in their place. I think the servants in America lack respect. I am old fashioned and prefer the Irish way of doing things.

  Tomas' wife, Nessa works for us also, as a maid and a cook. They live in an apartment off the main garage. They are both from Northern Ireland and had been very involved in The Troubles. They are here with falsified documents and under the protection of my clan. Tomas family has worked for the McNeil clan for generations. I feel an obligation to give Tomas and Nessa safe sanctuary. They know their place and are trusted servants, which is a rare thing these days. The bombings that Tomas had been involved with in Belfast were an understandable retaliation. I understand the reasons for the Irish troubles and I support them completely. I feel conflict or sometimes war, is often necessary. I also, understand the vast amounts of money that can be made from it. As a banker, I have made a fortune backing both sides; that's where the profit is. But publicly choosing a side is a necessary move. You have to please the simple minded public, that is business. As a businessman my public image is very important. But the truth is it is all theater for the masses. I often think I should have been an actor. Good business is always dirty business, in my opinion. Nothing is as it appears and it is very rare to find someone in the highest ranks of power who is not serving the Dark Lord, whether knowingly or not. Of course, most play act pretending to be morally upright, even religious. My associates and I all laugh about it in private over drinks. It is quite the comedy. I am not a kind man and only care for my own but I do have a tender spot for the Irish people. That is one conflict I do not play both sides. I hate the English. I think they are bullies.

  I can hear Lily's humming and chanting as she sits cross legged in the day room. She no doubt is talking to her fairy friends. She has been going into town to a yoga studio, lately. She knows she is not to mix with people in the town but she has recently made some hippie type friends. She even invited them to the house the other day for an outdoor yoga session in our garden. I was astounded when I saw them. I have never worried about her in the past. Maybe I will ship her back to our estate in Ireland for a visit with her family. She has a lot of friends and family there and I know she will give me no argument. She wants to redecorate some of the rooms at that estate, anyway. Yes, that is what I will do. She can leave next week. I am sure she will jump at the chance to go see her family.

  Keelie

  I am so glad, it is bedtime. I love Dad and Mom, but it gets so tiresome answering all their questions and most I can’t answer honestly. The last few weeks have been very active. Three days ago, I was in Vienna on an assignment. I and two others were asked to remote view a meeting in a particular hotel there. It is hard to describe to outsiders what remote viewing is exactly. I and the others have a special ability to go into a type of trance state and travel unencumbered by our bodies to specific destinations. I know it sounds weird but I have done it many times. So, as the saying goes truth is stranger than fiction. For this assignment, we were to remote view a meeting between two men. Then draw what we saw and also, write all the details of any conversations we heard. We had all drawn similar pictures; some with more details. I had heard and seen a gray haired man with another man who was dressed in Middle Eastern clothing discuss an oil deal. They seemed to be unhappy with the Russians and the Chinese, as they called them. They didn't trust them and their body language and tone showed extreme agitation.

  Remote viewing is not always reliable so, it is compiled with other Intel to get a more accurate picture. The U.S. military runs the operation. I have visited ten different countries in the last five years and have met twenty or more different remote viewers. They all look like they come from all walks of life. Our supervisors discourage us from talking amongst ourselves. They think it might taint our information. I disagree because from what I have experienced, the personality type of the viewers is extremely introverted and they don't talk much, anyway. Thinking about myself, I have to admit I prefer my inner conversation to listening or conversing with others. I think I do fit into this odd little group pretty well. I have always been reserved and have never shared my abilities with anyone unless they were in my immediate family or a very trusted confidant. I have always felt misunderstood and not like others so, I am careful. People are very narrow minded and do not want their world rocked in any way. It has been my experience that people would rather not know the truth. So, I am content in my little world of very special people.

  Sam Grayson

  I shook with anger as I talked to Xander on the phone. This week I am at my club in Amsterdam. I am trying to find out how in the devil the necklace had been discovered at my club; no less around the neck of the visiting magicians wife Madam Nore. I have my good name to protect and the reputation of the club. The magician has been interrogated. Now wishing he'd never came to The Pendulum that night, I am sure. His story remained the same. He had purchased the necklace from a high-end jeweler in Paris. We questioned the Jeweler and after a little persuasion he told us he had bought it from a fence. We have yet to locate the fence. So, we still have a rat in our distribution line.

  Grayson’s right eye twitched making a quick winking motion; a nervous tick he has had since childhood. His wife, Vivey would tease him saying he could never be a professional card player with that tell. Vivey sits on the couch in the office listening to her husband’s conversation, rather bored with it all. She has been raised privileged and is spoiled; expecting to be entertained, amused as she calls it. She drinks a lot; having parties and decorating are about all she has for a skill set. They have two children Lizzie and Baron. One they are proud of and the other they don’t talk much about. Baron is traveling around Europe for the summer with a group of friends. He will be attending Harvard in the fall.

  Lizzie has been institutionalized since age fifteen. She killed a classmate. The court found her criminally insane. During a Science lab, she shoved her best friend out of an open window. The whole class witnessed it and they said it was intentional. Afterward she just sat on the floor with a blank stare on her face. When questioned she couldn't remember doing it. There was a lot of debate whether she was lying or not. A doctor diagnosed
her as schizophrenic and manic depressive. She had been a strange child, distant always and rarely making eye contact.

  I can’t think about it Vivey says to herself quietly as she reflects on her families sad past. I need something for this awful headache.

  Reaching into my handbag she finds some prescription headache medicine. She takes a couple with her coffee. Then standing up says goodbye to whoever is listening. Sam takes no notice and continues talking to Xander on the phone. She doesn't recall ever seeing him so angry. Walking out of Sam’s office, Vivey jumps in a cab and goes back to their apartment. Tomorrow she is flying back to America because she has to start preparations for the Halloween Masquerade ball. It is the Grayson families turn this year. The party rotates among the family’s living on the Hill. She has been thinking about nothing else for months. Sam told her she could spend as much money as she needed.

  She loved throwing parties and this year she was planning on hiring Universal Studio to do all the decorating. Now in the apartment, she pulls out her suitcases and starts packing. After packing she set her bags by the front door and decides to lay down for a nap. Her flight is at 1 a.m. the red eye.

  Old Blithe

  They call me Old Blithe. I have worked for the Blacknest family for many years. Today’s my day off and I like to cook when I have a chance. I sometimes come up with something tasty. Snide is here putting on a pot of coffee for us. We have been friends for years and years. I have never been married and have lived at Blacknest estate since I was a young boy. I have always enjoyed working here. The gardening is something I get so much satisfaction from. The flower and vegetable gardens I plant are a beautiful site. The previous gardener and his wife adopted me when I was twelve years old. They were good people. It was the first time in my short life that I did not go to bed hungry and had clothes that fit.

  “You know, Snide I have never told you about my early days here. I was so excited to be living on this huge estate. My folks told me where I could play and to stay out of the big house. But when I was alone I would explore. I was so curious that I spent months just exploring every corner of the estate. I was real nosy as a kid.” says Blithe.

  “Yeah, weren't we all.” laughs Snide.

  Blithe continues “One day I was playing in the stables and while I was looking at the horse bridles in the tack room, a door in the wall open. One of the bridles was on the floor and the hook it had been hanging on was now facing down. So, of course I had to investigate. Remember, I was a nosy kid! Through the door I could see stone steps leading down. I crept down and down in the dark holding onto the wall because I couldn't see a thing. When I got to the bottom step I could see tunnels branching off . The tunnels were lit by torches that were hung on the walls about every fifteen feet. I remember wondering who lit the torches. I picked a tunnel and took off walking. There was no one around. Then I saw one of the doors lining the tunnel was slightly open. I went through it and I was shocked to see the room was lit with really bright lights and it looked like a hospital room but, bigger. I could hear a child crying. Back against the wall there were caged animals, most bandaged up sleeping. I searched for the crying child, it was getting louder. But suddenly someone grabbed me. It was a man in a surgical mask with long stringy black hair. I had never seen him before or since. I thought he was going to kill me. Instead the man told me to leave and never come back or he would kill me. I ran as fast as I could out of the tunnel and I never went back. You are the only person I have ever told that story to Snide.”

  Snide sits with his coffee in his hand and shakes his head, “Man, Blithe that is quite the tale. You mean to tell me you never went back down there, in all these years. I agree the Blacknest’s are a wicked bunch but, I don’t think I could have resisted. We need to do some exploring on our own one of these days. Don’t you think?” says Snide.

  “Yes, we should. You know ever since that happened occasionally I will find a threatening note telling me to keep quiet. Just this morning I found one taped to my front door” says Blithe.

  “We will think of something, Blithe. No more worrying. You know, Halloween night all the Hill families will be over at the Grayson’s for their big Masquerade party. That would be a good night for a little exploring. What do you think?" asks Snide

  "It's a date, my friend." replied Blithe.

  They agreed to get together and make some plans in the near future for their big outing down into the tunnels.

  Dottie at Home

  Dottie closed up her salon early and stopped by Duncan's Sweet Shop for an assorted box of pastries. She planned on eating an early supper of spaghetti and french bread, no vegetables. She didn't like them. Then sit in front of the TV all evening eating pastries and watching her programs. A typical evening, she had never married. Her weight got in the way of a lot of things that others take for granted. She knew she had a big problem. The scale was now saying she was over 290 lbs. The scale numbers didn't go any higher and she was pretty sure she was over 300 lbs. She made excuses for herself. There was always something to celebrate or a sorrow needing to be fed.

  Dottie sits talking to her dog, Butch. “Yes, Butch I know I need to lose a few but this evening I really do need these donuts or maybe a handful of tranquilizers.”

  She slumps down on the couch feeling sorry for herself. She knew she had lost control but at this moment she was thinking about those girls and maybe, a serial kidnapper running around her town. This was no time to think about diets. She got up and checked the locks on her doors and windows. She’d been letting her dog, Butch sleep in the house of late. He was old but he had good ears and a loud bark. She didn't have a gun and knew nothing about them, so instead she had pepper spray by her front door, on her night stand and in her purse. She was so scared lately, she had even started praying. She had never given religion much thought, but it made her feel safer; even if it was just wishful thinking. She walked into the kitchen and got a glass of milk to go with the rest of her pastries. Sitting down on the couch she reached into the box and took out the last pastry thinking maybe she’ll try cutting back tomorrow. Face covered in powdered sugar, Dottie sits and watches an old movie for the rest of the evening. Yes, I’ll do better tomorrow, maybe I will go walk in the mall with Deidre and start attending those weight loss meetings; although the idea of getting weighed-in in front of people makes me break out into a cold sweat.

  Sewing Bee at Faith Tabernacle Church

  The stack of baby blankets was growing. Sewing machines hummed among the laughter and talking as the women quickly pieced together the blankets. They had just gotten a request from an orphanage in Kentucky. That box was almost filled and will be mailed tomorrow. Meg was so pleased with the large turnout today. They were also sending some blankets to their missionaries Bob and Belinda down in Solly Holler, West Virginia. There was a great need in that area. Dilly had been ironing, folding, and packing the boxes all morning. Yes, she knew the blankets probably didn't need ironing but she thought it made them look more store bought and just a little nicer.

  Dilly told the women about seeing Gus at the cafe and how awful he looked. They said a prayer for him and promised to pray for him. Dilly suggested one of them goes down to the police station and find out if there's any news on the missing girls. They stopped sewing and chatted about what might have happened to them. She told the women about seeing Millicent Morgan crying as she walked by her house that day. Dilly had been out front pulling weeds in her flower beds so she invited Millicent to sit a bit on her porch and have a cup of hot chocolate. Millicent told Dilly that she had been having bad dreams and memory loss; large chunks of time she couldn't account for. Her dreams were of an all white hospital room, people crying and she knew she was really scared in the dream. She didn't know why. She just knew she was in some type of danger. Dilly told the women that she had told her to not worry because they were only dreams and not real. The next day she disappeared.

  Dilly just shook her head wishing she had been able to help her some
how. They all sat staring and thinking. What could they do? What happened to poor Millicent?

  That evening Dilly sat on her porch watching the cars pull up to the guard house at Blacknest Academy. The guard would talk to each driver and hand them something. It looked like maybe visitor passes and then he would open the gate. There is quite a crowd there tonight. She knew the play is still going on so, that is probably the reason. She hadn't gone. It didn't sound very interesting. It has something to do fairies or something of that nature and kids jumping around singing. That was not her cup of tea, for sure. She went in and gave her kitties some treats and went to bed. It had been a long day.

  The Fundraiser meeting at the Church

  The meeting room at Faith Tabernacle is decorated with pastel table cloths and wildflowers. The food smells delicious. Women are filing in and finding seats. They are here today to plan some fund raisers for the missionary families the church supports.

  Meg comes to the front and welcomes everyone. “Good afternoon ladies, please go ahead and enjoy your lunch. We will have the meeting after.” She points to the back where a salad and a taco bar have been set up. Chairs scoot and women still talking walk back and fill their plates. Dilly sits and watches; waiting for the line to thin out. She has been mulling over different fund raising ideas that she could bring up to the group. Carrie and Lucy are sitting across the table from her. Lucy is already eating a cupcake. She has brought five dozen cupcakes from the bakery, that she and her husband, Duncan own; Duncan’s Sweet Shop. The one she is eating looks like lemon cake with lemon curd filling and coconut frosting. Dilly starts laughing.