“I’m sorry you’re so close-minded, Dex Foray. You see, what I’ve learned in school is that people are haunted and not buildings. If a building is haunted that usually means there is some kind of doorway inside, a place where the walls to the afterlife are thin. And if someone who is more disposed to supernatural contact, such as myself, is in such a place, the ghosts come to them.”
I hated to admit it, but what she said made a little bit of sense. It would explain why, no matter where I was, certain things would haunt me.
Like the woman in the bathroom. The woman with the voice of wasps, the sticky red blood tide of endless blood flowing toward me, the fact that she knew my name…
“Are you OK, kiddo?” I heard Dex say.
I looked at him and noticed I had everyone’s attention. Had I just said something out loud?
“What?” I asked.
He furrowed his brows, slowing down his chewing, watching me carefully. I gave him an incredulous look and repeated myself. “What, Dex?”
“Nothing,” he said slowly and then looked back at the crew. “Well, just trying to help you guys out. Don’t want to see you wasting your time.”
“Oh yeah,” G.J. said sarcastically. “I’m sure that’s it. You and Boobs here just don’t want us to find anything.”
“Boobs?” I cried out and looked down at my chest. I was wearing a Nine Inch Nails tee shirt underneath my jacket. Nothing “boobs” about that.
Dex cocked his head at him, annoyed. “Actually you can find whatever the hell you fucktards want. We’ve got our own fish to fry tonight and we’re going to be the first show that the institute is going to let film inside.”
“What institute?” Annie asked suspiciously.
“You’re just going to have to watch and see, sweetheart,” Dex responded with a handsome grin. He grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the car. I shot the group one final look and followed Dex, walking rapidly to keep up with him.
When we were out of earshot, I said, “What a bunch of douchebags.”
“Douchebuckets,” he corrected me.
“Should we be worried?”
He shook his head and spit his gum out into the gutter as we crossed the street to his car. “Fuck me, I could go for a cigarette right now.”
“That’s not a good sign, Dex,” I pointed out.
He gave me a quick smile for reassurance but I didn’t feel reassured at all.
“No need to worry, we’ll figure this out soon. They’ve got nothing on us,” he said as he opened the rear door for me.
I got in and we drove back home. Though I couldn’t quite place my finger on it, I had a bad feeling about all of this. Then again, when didn’t I?
CHAPTER NINE
After our confrontation with Spook Factory was over, everyone seemed too aggro and annoyed to be cooped up in the apartment. Jenn decided she was going to go to the gym and invited me to go along with her.
“No thanks,” I had told her. Going to a gym, with Jenn…I’d rather have a lobotomy.
“Are you sure? You could use the exercise,” she said, stretching in her Lycra gear in front of me.
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“For endorphins,” she smiled sweetly. “They’ll make you feel better.”
Uh huh.
So she went on her merry way to burn whatever fat she had left off of her while Dex did the opposite and had a nap.
“Can you watch Fat Rabbit and make sure he’s not shitting in anyone’s shoes?” Dex asked as he stood in his bedroom doorway. He looked strangely wane and haggard, a sudden change from earlier. A nap would do him good.
“Of course,” I said walking into my room and nervously eyeing Fat Rabbit, who was staring at me with devious bug eyes, like he already had shit in someone’s shoes and was just waiting for that person to find out.
He closed his door and I was left to my own devices. I went on the computer for a bit, checking my emails and making sure Miss Anonymous wasn’t leaving any more scathing comments on the blog posts. To my surprise and relief, she hadn’t said anything lately.
I tweeted a few things about being in Seattle and going on a hunting expedition that evening, even though I wanted to put a few potshots in there about G.J. and Annie. But I wasn’t about to start a Twitter war with those people.
When I got bored of the internet, I entertained Fat Rabbit by tossing a chew toy around for him in the room, not wanting his loud nails to go clattering across the apartment and waking up Dex. And when Fat Rabbit got bored of that, I started picking through Dex’s bookshelf again.
I started with a coffee table book of Led Zeppelin and skimmed through a few rock biographies before settling on a heavy book called “The Devil’s Death Metal,” which seemed to be about a female music journalist in the early 1970s and her supernatural involvement with a metal band. At least, that’s what the blurb on the back said.
But when I opened the book to read the first few pages, my eyes nearly fell out of my head.
The pages were all glued together and a hollow square was cut out in the middle. There were four half-full bottles of prescription medicine inside.
I took one bottle out and examined it. I had no idea what the gobbledygook medicinal name was, but it was prescribed by a Doctor Anderson for a Mr. Declan Foray.
I looked around me warily. Fat Rabbit was lying down on the bed and looking at me like I was doing something wrong. But I wasn’t. Was I? I mean, Dex was storing – or hiding – bottles of medicine in a hollowed-out book.
I remembered back to when we first met; he had mentioned that Jenn never knew he was on medication. I thought that had been a joke but it was now apparent that he had been serious. It boggled my mind. How on earth was Dex able to keep this a secret from her, and for heaven’s sake, why? She was his girlfriend, the one person who actually had the right to know if her boyfriend was on medication or not.
And four bottles, too! I examined all of them. Some were horse-pill size, some were tiny yellow tablets. And while two bottles were prescribed by Dr. Anderson, the other two were from a Dr. Houston and a Dr. Bains.
I gently put the bottles back and closed the book cover, holding it in my lap. I didn’t know what to think. Why was Dex on so many pills? What else was wrong with him? It couldn’t just be this so-called bipolar disorder, could it?
“Perry?” Dex called out. Fat Rabbit leaped off the bed and I leaped to my feet and hid the book behind my back just as he appeared at the door, looking all ruffle-haired and bleary-eyed.
“Dex!” I exclaimed, trying to not look suspicious. It didn’t fool him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, moving his head over to get a better look at what I had behind my back.
“Nothing,” I replied swiftly and stepped backward. I smiled while adjusting the book behind my back, hiding it better.
But as I did so, my finger caught the edge of the book and the cover opened.