Max sighed, then seemed to realize he still had his hand on my arm and pulled away, grimacing. “I guess it depends on context. A year ago, I would say a normal kid thing. A year ago, though, this place was different.” He peered up at the building beside us. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
He spoke in a low tone, almost a whisper, and I glanced up as well. I really felt like I should have some sort of monitoring equipment on me and regretted not checking out more paranormal ghost-hunting stuff. Then again, Mordechai never needed any of that.
You don’t need it either.
While I appreciated the vote of confidence, given the source was a monster, I didn’t put too much stock in it. I’d spent so long following Mordechai’s lead that I wasn’t sure exactly how this whole psychic investigation actually worked. But Max was waiting for an answer, so I dutifully narrowed my eyes at the old, stately home. “I feel like it’s a little off, yeah.”
His smile was mirthless. “A little. Is that all?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. A check, I realized. Just like that. He handed it to me, and I felt the most curious urge to stuff it in my pants and run like hell.
Instead, I waved it at him. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Coming out here is something. Getting people to do even that has become nearly impossible.” His gaze on me hardened a little. “Rabbi Mordechai sounded like he was willing to help, which is a hell of a lot further than I got with the local priests. Or in Chicago. They gave me some prayers—prayers.” He curled his lip. “We’re way beyond that.”
I frowned at him. “So your first stop was the Catholic Church? And they turned you down?” It didn’t seem like they should be allowed to do that, but I didn’t know all the rules of Catholicism, despite my tenure at All Souls. Oddly enough, proper techniques for exorcisms had never come up in religion class.
“They kept passing the buck,” he said, disgust heavy in his voice. “The local priest here—a guy who actually knows my family—he tried to help. He came out to the house and prayed over it. Of course, nothing creepy bothered him while he did it, but it didn’t actually accomplish anything.”
I squinted at him. “What do you mean, nothing bothered him?”
He shrugged. “The things that happen here…they seemed tuned to us, specifically. To mock us. The worst thing they coulddo was not show up when we finally got help, and so, that’s what happened.”
His voice sounded unbearably tired, and I knew what he was thinking. Who knew if the evil lurking here would show itself to me, either?
Oh, it will.
A wave of uneasiness flickered through me, equal parts cold dread and giddy excitement, but fortunately, Max didn’t seem to notice.
“Then in Chicago, they referred me to their local priest and asked about my own religious practices, like that had anything to do with anything. Suggested I talk to the cops, as if I didn’t have to do that already when all the horses were shot.”
I felt his words hitting me too fast, too hard. I wasn’t sure where to focus. “That happened this past winter?”
“Wasn’t really even winter anymore, it was March. It’d been really cold for a long stretch of days, and we’d gotten a lot more snow than we had in years past. The local cops told me they thought my father had gotten a little turned around.” He glanced at me. “It’s not a crime, you know. Killing your own livestock. It felt like a crime, but it wasn’t.”
“And is that, ah, the biggest thing that happened? Anything since then?”
He shook his head. “I took a leave of absence from work and came home in April. That’s when the Bells left, our housekeeper and her husband. They took care of the horses. Which were dead, so…I let them go with an extra year’s pay for sticking with us so long.” His voice was bitter. “The Bells had been with the family for more than twenty years, since before I was born. They were—are—such good people. But I couldn’t keep them here. Not when everything had gotten so bad, so quickly.”
He looked past me to where Sam had disappeared into the barn. I followed his line of sight. “Is he okay in there?”
“Yeah. Nothing in there anymore that’s any different from inside the house. He doesn’t usually hurt himself too badly.”
Too badly? What did that even mean?
Max waved around. “The official tour is pretty basic. We’ve got the main house, here, then two other houses on the property. The Bells’ house is empty now, but not abandoned, really. They left their stuff, saying they wanted to come back once they could. Once I let them. The other house is more of a lake cottage out back past the woods.”
“Anyone live in the lake cottage? Like, full-time?” I didn’t know why I asked the question, but Max’s glance told me it was the right one.
“Yeah. My sister’s old boyfriend, Joe Bell. He’s twenty-six now, works odd jobs for Dad, clears the property and trims trees, stuff like that. But he keeps to himself. He went through a lot when he and my sister broke up, and Dad sort of took pity on him and rented the place out to him. He can come and go as he wants—there’s a separate road to the place. I doubt we’ll see him while you’re here. He’s harmless.”
Nothing about this place felt harmless to me. It was time to come clean.
“Max, I can’t do a lot, but I can do what you asked me to do, at least.” The obligation of his money dragged on me, pulling me under like a riptide. “I can write up a visit here as if Rabbi Mordechai had been here. Like he had seen this place before he died. And then you could go back to the Catholic people or find another rabbi, someone who would take your case because it was already, you know, vetted.”
He sagged a little, though I didn’t understand why. “Can’t you do something yourself?”
Panic zipped through me. “No, Max. Do I look like a rabbi to you? Or a Catholic priest? I was Rabbi Mordechai’sassistant.”
