Paranormal Mystery

CHAPTER ELEVEN Seaside, OR October 6, 2018             I was sitting in the attic of the Bridge Tender Tavern and the home of the Seaside Agency.   Totally stunned.   Barely able to speak.   Chief had already left.   It was once again just Madam, Charlie and me.   I looked at both of them.   Charlie didn’t appear to be in much better shape than me.   He was extremely pale, and kept rubbing his chin. “Charlie,” asked Madam.   “Are you OK?   You’re not looking well.” “I’m fine, Madam,” he answered.   “Even though you and I have worked together several times, this is the first time I’ve laid eyes on an elemental spirit.   I guess I wasn’t as educated in all of this as I thought.   Chief was one thing, but Sasquatch was a whole different ballgame.   Man!” “What about you, Susie?” he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder.   Thank God for Cha...

Rosita had two blockages in her heart. Because of the timeliness of the medical care she had received, though, there was very little permanent damage.   She knew from letters that her sister had written from Chile that several relatives back there had suffered heart attacks.   Why she hadn’t had her heart checked out was a mystery. Matthew thought she'd probably relied on her faith to save her.   When he expressed this to Father Olson, the priest shook his head.   “Leave it to your Mama to think that God will touch her and heal everything,” he said.   “My guess would be that God put that hospital, the surgeons, the medications and the research here so that she could take it upon herself to seek the help she needed.   He’s too busy to do everything for everybody!   Hmmm.   I’m going to have to do a sermon on that,” he said as an aside.   Coming back around to the subject at hand, Father Olson continued.   “Matt...

Tiffany had been missing for three years now.   Her class just graduated from Oregon City High School without her.   Matthew still hadn’t gotten over her disappearance.   He continued to do well in school and sports, but he had pulled back from being the social butterfly he’d been as a freshman.   His mother worried about him. Both Matt and Nick still lived at home with Rosita.   She watched as they grew so distinctly in their own directions.   Nick was doing well with his music business.   At twenty-three, he had numerous clients in the Portland area.   Enough that he had a few deejays working for him, playing his music mixes.   His production company was getting plenty of airtime on local radio stations, and he was hoping to move to the national market.   In time, maybe even the international market. Matt had decided that he wasn’t ready to go to college.   He wanted to concentrate on developing his skills as a furniture m...

CHAPTER TEN Oregon City, OR July 16, 2007   Eight o’clock Monday morning.   Bright and early.   Eight Clackamas County Sheriff’s Department vehicles.   Lights flashing.   Sixteen deputies, all looking for a missing girl.   Tiffany Stuart.   Nobody wanted her found more than Matthew, but he knew that she wasn’t here.   He could feel it in his heart.   Still, he met them at the door eager to help look for her. Rosita, Matthew and Nick were lined up and given the rules.   The warrant was handed to Rosita as the owner of the land and buildings.   Their home.   Now the suspected location of a crime.   It couldn’t be true.   But it was.   They weren’t allowed to help search their own home or the land on which it sat.   They had to just sit in the kitchen and wait. The deputies went through the house room by room.   Every door was opened.   Every box was overturned.   Suitcases we...

He went on.   “Bad man strangle girl.   In car.   Underneath bridge in big city.   He drive over second bridge toward mountain.   Winding road toward mountain.   Dead girl now in heavy box.   Man drive to lake.   He have boat.   It dark outside.   He put box in boat.   Go middle of lake.   Tie anchors, heavy rocks around box.   Throw box into lake.   Then he go home to cabin.   Further up winding road.” “Girl’s family very sad.   Girl’s son grew up without mother.   Solved.   Just.” “I don’t understand,” I said.   “How was it solved?   Did anyone ever find her body?   Was the murderer convicted?” “No,” he continued.   Still solved.   Just.” “Again, I’m confused,” I said. “Me talk with Indian brave.   Lewis River Tribe,” declared the Chief. “How could he have talked with an Indian Brave back in the 1970’s?” I asked Charlie.   “He was dead.” ...

CHAPTER NINE Seaside, OR October 6, 2018             Charlie and I made our way down to the Bridge Tender, a nondescript building that looked more like a wooden tinderbox than a tavern.   As we entered the building, I finally took the time to look around.   It was a standard old bar.   A jukebox along one wall.   A pool table in the middle of the room.   Nothing in there suggested what was taking place upstairs in the attic.   I seriously doubted that the patrons of the business had any idea that the place was haunted.   I wouldn’t have - until last night.   We went through the kitchen to the back room and, once again, made our way up the narrow stairs.   I couldn’t believe I was doing this again. “I must be nuts,” I thought.   “I’m in a locked building with a man I just met yesterday and a ghost who is God only knows how old.” “It’s not polite to ask a woman’s ag...