The Haunting

"Sir, is this your bag?"

Ian looked up to see the TSA agent with his bag.

"Yes, why?"

Joey was pleased with himself, he knew something was off with this guy. "Sir, please step over here while we take a look inside."

"Look" Ian began in an angry tone, "I only have another ten minutes to make my flight. Can't you hassle somebody else?"

A supervisor overheard the exchange and stepped over. "Bronkosky, what have you got?"

Joey pointed to the image on the screen. The supervisor made a face which could only be interpreted as concern, then addressed Ian. "Sir, come over here."

Ian was about to start yelling at this new guy, but at the last second, thought better of it. Maybe he could get this over quick if he kept his mouth shut.

No such luck. When Joey examined the travel bag, he opened a side pocket on the outside of the case, a pocket Ian never used. Ian watched in horror as the agent pulled out a large sharp knife-like object. "Son of a bitch!" Ian thought to himself, "Lisa's letter opener from her office, how the hell did that get in my bag?"

What Ian said out loud was, "I didn't put that in my bag!"

"Sir, did someone else pack your bag or was it out of your control at any time?"

Ian had to admit neither.

"Then please come with us."

An hour later Ian left the examination room and was allowed to pass through Security, but only after a very embarrassing strip-search and a stern lecture from the police of what would happen, being placed on the 'No-Fly List', if he ever attempted to go through Security again with a restricted object.

Joey Bronkosky got a big 'atta-boy' with a letter in his personal file for his vigilance.

Of course, Ian's flight left over an hour ago and he went to the service counter to rebook his flight to Phoenix. Unfortunately, the next available flight wasn't until eight pm. Ian sat in the airport bar for four hours and drank three double Jamesons. He had two more on the plane and checked into his hotel just after one am. He felt like crap. He fell into the room, turned his phone off and unplugged the hotel room phone -- just in case.

Bang, bang, bang -- someone was banging on Ian's door. He got out of bed, the clock showed three-thirty, and went to the door, looking through the spy-hole to see the lady who checked him in. He opened the door a crack.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you Mr. Burns. Your wife has been trying to get a hold of you. She says it's an emergency, that there's water everywhere. She said to call her."

"What the hell?" it slipped out of his mouth. Ian thanked the lady and turned his phone back on and called Carmen thinking, "Why would Carmen be calling me and pretending to be my wife?" It was the only explanation he could think of for such a crazy message. Maybe the roof of the building was leaking.

Carmen's phone rang a half dozen times before she picked up. She didn't sound happy to be woken. "What?" is all she said.

"Carmen, were you trying to get a hold of me?"

"Ian, it's four in the morning. Why would I be calling you?"

He was ready to tell her he received a message that his wife called when he realized how that made him sound crazy. "Sorry, babe. It must have been a bad dream. G'night." Ian ended the call before he heard Carmen say, "asshole".

Ian never fell back to sleep. The front desk clerk's words kept him awake. "She says it's an emergency, there's water everywhere." He finally got out of bed at five to make a cup of coffee. He spent the next two hours watching sports talking heads on ESPN blather about nonsense before showering and getting ready for his meeting.

The CEO and Operations Manager of Jefferson Industries were waiting for him when he drove up in his rental car. Ian looked as bad as he felt. His head was splitting, his ears were ringing and he fought to stay awake. The client knew Ian recently lost his wife and was willing to cut him some slack for wasting most of Monday morning's meetings, the CEO finally sent Ian back to his hotel with a promise to reschedule soon, then called Joseph and told him not to send Ian again until he got his shit together. Ian drove back to the hotel with every intention of crashing into bed and getting some sleep, having decided to take the booked flight back home Tuesday afternoon.

Instead, his phone rang as he settled into his room. It was the lead Ocean County detective investigating Lisa's death. He informed Ian that neither the county coroner's office nor the district attorney were ready to sign off on Lisa's death as accidental. The detective requested Ian return to the police station to answer a few more questions.

"Honestly" said the detective, "we were ready to sign off until we received an anonymous call claiming there was a witness who swears they saw you push Mrs. Burns off the cliff. We would have thought it was a prank, but this person seemed to have knowledge of so many facts. I'm certain we can clear this up if you come back and review the events with us."

To say Ian became concerned was an understatement. He knew he hadn't pushed Lisa off the cliff, but how many times have 'innocent' men been convicted? If nothing else, a trial would be costly and would delay the life insurance payout. Ian went down to the bar and drank too many pints and too many shots of Tequila. The bartender finally cut him off when he grew loud and belligerent. Heading back to his room, he spent an hour puking up the liquor, so much for a good night's sleep.

**

Carmen's Monday was better than Ian's, but not much better. Something kept waking her up every hour the previous night. Just as she fell asleep, some low-toned buzzing would start, but only for a few seconds -- long enough to wake her, but not long enough to` trace where the sound was coming from. Finally, after waking up every hour from ten until two, she stuffed her ears with cotton and was asleep when Ian called at four asking his lunatic question, "were you trying to get a hold of me?"

Carmen made it into work on time, but the lack of sleep was a contributing factor in her making a few errors, errors her boss quickly discovered. After the second error, Carmen got an ass-chewing and warning.

Monday night was no better; in fact, it was much worse. When she talked to Ian, he was drunk and incoherent. She tried to go to sleep at nine, but by eleven that damn buzzing started up again. Carmen put cotton in her ears again and fell back asleep.

She had no idea how long she was asleep or what time it was when she felt a presence in the room. The room was dark, but there was enough light to make out the woman standing at the foot of the bed. An apparition, it had to be, dressed in a white smock, the face white, the long hair hanging to the shoulder. Looking closer, Carmen could see the woman's hair was wet, then she understood, this was Lisa Burns.

"What do you want?" Carmen's voice was barely a squeak, her throat constricted with fear. Was that a smile in response or a malicious evil grin? The woman didn't answer and Carmen shirked under the covers.

"He killed me and he'll kill you, too." The woman's hand reached out toward Carmen. Carmen pulled the blanket over her head, shivering and praying for the first time since she was a little girl.

Time passed, whether it was ten minutes or two hours, Carmen couldn't tell, but when she finally worked up the nerve to drop the covers and look, the apparition was gone. Or had it ever really been there? Carmen got up out of the bed, slowly going room to room, turning on every light in the apartment as she slowly looked inside every closet, under the bed and behind the sofa. She made her way into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of wine out of the fridge. Looking in the cabinet, Carmen reached past the wine glasses and grabbed one of Ian's pint glasses.

**

Ian's phone was ringing; it was eight am Tuesday morning.

"Hello?" At this point he was almost afraid to answer the phone, nothing good came of the last few calls.

"Ian" It was Joseph, "what the hell is going on down there? I just got off the phone with Mr. Fairbanks at Jefferson; he said you wasted his day yesterday."

"I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say.

"That's not all. I got a call from a detective yesterday. Wanted to know if I thought you were capable of killing Lisa. I told him 'no way', but why are they asking questions? Is there something you need to tell me?"

"No! I swear I didn't kill her Joseph. It was an accident!"

"Okay, okay; you better talk to that Ocean County detective and square this away. Take tomorrow to drive over there. Then, Thursday, see what you can do to sooth the folks at Jefferson. Or should I send Holstead?" Holstead was always trying to steal Ian's accounts. Now Joseph was hinting Holstead should take over the Jefferson account. That was almost seven percent of Ian's compensation. It pissed Ian just to hear it proposed.

"Don't do that. Give me until the end of the week. I'll have everything straightened out with that detective and with Mr. Fairbanks."

"I like you Ian, but I can't afford to lose the Jefferson account. Fix it!" Joseph ended the call.

Ian's had two hours to make his flight, but he made it with five minutes to spare. On the flight he bought a few of those small bourbons from the flight attendant. She almost refused to serve him because he looked to be in bad shape.

**

Twice now Carmen heard a phone ringing somewhere in the apartment. The second time it rang, she found a burner phone in the jacket pocket of one of Ian's coats. Carmen answered the phone.

"Is Ian there?" it was a woman calling.

"Who is this?" Carmen couldn't believe it, the dirtbag had another girlfriend!

"Tell Ian that Janet called." And hung up.

Carmen looked at the call history, Ian must have cleared it. But she did find two texts from the same number that just called, it came in Saturday. "thx 4 2sdaynite" and "find my panties?" Both with a dozen emojis of love and kisses.

It rained all Tuesday morning; the gloom didn't help Carmen's sour mood after a night of no sleep and finding the burner phone earlier that morning. It wasn't even noon before she opened another bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. The television was on, Carmen wasn't paying much attention to what was playing, it was one of those stupid daytime soap operas that her mother used to spend half her day watching, until the dishes piled up and the laundry didn't get done. When Carmen's father came home from work the fighting would start, both parents shouting names and swearing.

The memory of her dysfunctional family only made Carmen more upset. "Why do people stay together if they only make each other more miserable?" she thought to herself as she poured a second glass of wine. The question never answered itself because the two television actors interrupted her thoughts. The female actress slapped the male actor and accused him of cheating. The male actor laughed at the woman and admitted to his affair with a younger, prettier co-worker. Carmen watched the scene in horror. "Are all men such scum?" she asked the television screen.

By the time Ian walked in the door three hours later, Carmen was finishing the last of the bottle. Ian dropped his suitcase on the hallway floor and stepped into an unexpected cyclone of venom coming out of Carmen's mouth. "Hey babe" were the only words out of his mouth before the storm hit.

"Your girlfriend called, you asshole!"

"What are you talking about? What girlfriend?"

Carmen grabbed the phone and threw it at Ian's head. "Don't play mister innocent with me. I found the phone you've been using."

The phone missed Ian's head and shattered against the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about for god's sake. You're drunk!"

Carmen was getting hotter and more rabid by the second. How dare Ian try to talk his way out of this -- she knew the drill -- deny, deny, deny. He used a burner phone to communicate with her for the past three months, now he's trying to deny he has another phone for the other bitch? She ran to the where the phone landed on the floor, picking it up and shoving it in his chest. "Here, just read the texts she sent!"

Due to the three drinks on the plane and lack of sleep - besides the catastrophic road trip - and a lousy flight through a thunderstorm that had the plane shaking like a leaf in the sky - Ian was having a hard time processing whatever Carmen was screaming about. He needed a drink but instead, he was dealing with an irrational crazy woman.

Ian looked down at the phone in his hand. He pressed the power button, but nothing happened, the phone was broken. Ian held up the phone to Carmen. "You broke it." He put it down on the kitchen island and went to the mini-bar to pour himself a stiff drink -- a twelve year old Highland Park, straight up.

Carmen couldn't believe it; the evidence was gone! Carmen started yelling louder now. "You son of a bitch! It was there, her texts to you, the call she made was in its history log! They were there."

Ian finished the first glass and poured a second. "You're nuts! There is no other woman!" His voice cut Carmen to the soul. "Go step in the shower and sober up. We'll talk when you're not drunk." Ian opened the sliding doors to the patio and stepped out to get some fresh air and to get away from this mad woman. Three years living with Lisa and he never experienced anything like this, he didn't know how to handle it. Best just to get away. He started to close the sliding door when it jerked out of his hand.

"Don't tell me to sober up! Don't tell me you're not going to dump me for another woman! I saw the texts! You're going to pay, you bastard! I hate you and I want you dead!" Carmen shoved Ian in the chest.

Under normal circumstances, Ian would have backed into the railing surrounding the patio, the railing having been built according to the most recent codes and high enough to prevent anyone from tumbling over. Under normal circumstances, but through a quirk of the Universe, Lisa's herb planter was situated on the deck directly between Ian and the railing. As Ian tripped backwards, his foot caught the edge of the planter - catapulting him over the railing and down five floors unto the pavement below.

Carmen screamed in horror as she ran to the railing, looking down to see Ian's lifeless body below. She couldn't believe it, and it would be years before she would forget the look in Ian's eyes as he fell backwards, grabbing at the air in a vain attempt to find a grip.

Carmen began shouting "help, help" and ran to the apartment entry continuing to shout "call 911" before three or four neighbors opened their doors and came to assist her. Two of the neighbors were on their phones to the police as soon as they understood what Carmen was trying to say. Mrs. Simpson, the neighbor from across the hall, sat Carmen down on the sofa and tried to calm her down with a glass of water.

Everyone admitted during the subsequent investigation that it was a tragic accident, mostly caused by the unlucky placement of the planter. Carmen would have been given a slap on the hands, probation for her part in the accident, except for one thing. The next-door neighbor happened to be sitting on her deck next to Ian's when she heard the shouting and looked over to see Carmen shove Ian "with force" while shouting "I want you dead". Carmen ended up pleading guilty to 'negligent homicide' and sentenced to eighteen months in the state penitentiary.

***********************

Three months later.

"So, anything I tell you is confidential unless it's unlawful?"

Gloria Turner, the psychologist, nodded in agreement.

"Even if it's immoral or unethical, as long as it's not against the law?"

Another nod in response to this second question. The psychologist remained poised with the writing pad on her lap and the pen in her right hand; waiting for her new patient to begin.

"I've always been a 'Pollyanna', don't know why given what a bitch my mother has always been, but it's how I've looked at life, like good things come to good people. But, when I was falling off that cliff into the ocean, and my husband stood there letting it happen, something just snapped."

Lisa Burns took a sip of water.

"I hit the water and felt the riptide pulling me out to sea. The water was cold, I knew it wouldn't take long before hypothermia set in, but I fought the urge to fight the current, took off my shoes and the backpack and floated on my back until the current stopped pushing me out.

"There was a low offshore fog; I couldn't see the shore or anything around me, but I started swimming to where I thought the shore would be. That's when I heard a radio playing old rock music. I swam toward the sound and couldn't believe it -- there was a guy hauling a crab pot out of the ocean. I don't know who was more surprised, me or him."

Lisa started to tear up. "He lifted me out of the water, helped me undress, bundled me up in a wool blanket and took the boat back to shore. He and his wife fed me and took care of me. When the news came on, we watched Ian cry those crocodile tears. I decided to make his life a living hell until he confessed what he did, I decided to haunt Ian.

"Mr. and Mrs. Crane drove me back to town and got me a room at a nearby motel using their credit card. When I think of that couple, I have to say, it's helped partially restore my faith in people."

"Have you done anything to thank them?" This was one of the few times Gloria would interrupt Lisa's narrative.

"Yes, Mr. Crane has a new outboard motor for his fishing boat and Mrs. Crane has a new convection oven. On our drive back to the city they were chatting and I overheard them. I was in the back seat and I know they weren't hinting -- they thought I was asleep.

"I settled into my motel room and snuck into the apartment Monday night. It's funny -- I was the one who argued against having a hidden key, taped under the welcome mat outside the entry door, Ian had been locked out a couple times and insisted on it. Anyway - Ian is, or was, a heavy sleeper and I thought I could move around the apartment without waking him. Turns out I needn't worry, he was sleeping at his girlfriend's, who I didn't know existed until that day.

"I placed a few mementoes here and there, things to remind Ian how much we loved each other once, including hanging our anniversary photos in my office after I noticed he took our wedding photos down in the hallway. Then splashed some of my perfume on the bedsheets. I did something else that night I never would have done until then. I logged onto Ian's work and personal email accounts from his laptop he left in the bedroom. I knew his passwords, he probably didn't know it, but I never snooped before Monday night. That's when I found out there was a Carmen. She had sent him an email after hearing the news I was missing, she couldn't get a hold of him on the burner phone they used to communicate -- another thing I learned -- and was worried about him, at least that's what she wrote."

Lisa was starting to tear up recalling this; Gloria handed her the box of tissues.

"How much time do we have?" Lisa asked Gloria.

"Two hours, don't worry, you're my last appointment of the day." Gloria knew this session would be intense for Lisa and didn't want to cut it short. Besides, Gloria couldn't wait to hear how Lisa arranged her revenge.

Once Lisa calmed down, she continued. "Tuesday night I went back. I had to be quiet because Ian was there sleeping. I almost laughed out loud when I found the pile of bedclothes in the hallway where he tossed them. The perfume was working. I moved a couple of things and left.

"Wednesday night was better because Ian spent the night at his girlfriend's, I could move around freely. I went through the garbage bags Ian had filled and found a few things I didn't want to have thrown out. It's amazing how, what you thought was important, no longer has value when your life has been turned upside down. I took a chance and grabbed my laptop hoping Ian wouldn't notice it missing.