Inside the Executive's Pocket Read online

  Inside the Executive’s Pocket

  A Ghosts of Landover Mystery

  Etta Faire

  Copyright © 2019 by Etta Faire

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Website: http://ettafaire.com/

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 1

  When the Dead Forest Calls

  I’ll never forget the first time I heard the rumor about the Dead Forest. I didn’t grow up in Landover, so I had no clue something so weird could exist in life. Locals know all too well weird exists here.

  I had just met Shelby. We were both around twenty and heading off to one of her makeup parties that I was only going to so it’d look like there were more people. I was in no position in life to purchase twenty-dollar lip liner.

  It was dark and, on the stretch of highway we were on, also deserted. No people, not very many lights, like the city had just given up on expensive things like safety in the less populated areas.

  She suddenly pointed toward a dirt path to our left, her voice taking on a weird, ominous tone.

  “The old drive-in’s over there,” she said. “It shut down in the 70’s after the incident.”

  A chill went up my spine. “What are you talking about? You’re trying to scare me. It’s not working.”

  It was totally working.

  She suddenly veered the car down the path, and I held in my scream. Her Cadillac bumped and bounced, hitting potholes and crevices. I remember staring at her in the light of the full moon, wondering if I was about to get slaughtered by my seemingly sweet new friend, who I really didn’t know very well and was certainly exhibiting erratic behavior.

  I was about to tell her all about the mountain of lip liners I was going to buy from her as soon as we made it to that makeup party safely, when she pointed all around at the forest.

  “It’s called the Dead Forest,” she said. “Wikipedia’ll tell you the Dead Forest got its name because the farmers and ranchers who founded Landover couldn’t grow anything on this part of the land.”

  She barely looked at the road as she talked, and it was almost pitch black, despite the full moon. Still, I did not tell the possibly crazy person by my side to slow down or pay attention even though she clearly needed to.

  She continued. “But the locals know the truth. It got its name because strange things happen to people who go inside it.”

  She stopped the car suddenly right along the path. I fell into my seatbelt, my heart racing.

  I hit my lock three or four times before looking around, trying to decide which was my best bet. Stay in the car and defend myself against the bony, pink-haired girl who may or may not be about to murder me, or run screaming into the forest.

  The full moon had illuminated the trunks and branches of the trees so they looked like skeleton fingers beckoning me to come in.

  I decided to stay in the car.

  Shelby continued. “A group of settlers way back when went in there. Legend has it they got disoriented and lost. Only one made it out alive.”

  “Maybe they just needed a better compass,” I said, trying to make my voice casual.

  “Except, their bones were found a few weeks later neatly placed all along the perimeter.”

  I tried not to look rattled.

  “Then in the 1970s sometime, a couple stayed late after the drive-in closed. They were making out in the car when…”

  “Is this going to involve a hook?”

  She ignored me. “When one of them saw something in the woods. They thought they heard laughing, like their friends were playing a trick on them, trying to scare them. The boyfriend had a baseball bat in his trunk, so they went inside the forest to have a look.”

  I didn’t interrupt her even though this was already very unbelievable. Why would they grab a bat if they thought it was their friends? And how had they not recognized this scenario, even in the 70s? This was Horror Movie 101. Never assume it’s your friends making the noise in the woods. It never is.

  “The boyfriend didn’t make it out. Only the girlfriend did. And she had the same story as the old rancher. Disoriented as soon as they went in. They saw eyes. And laughing. Her boyfriend passed out and she remembered hearing his screams but she couldn’t help him or find him. She couldn’t tell where anything was coming from. Then, when she somehow got back to town, bloodied and crazed, the police discovered the couple’s friends were missing too. It had been them in the woods playing a trick on the couple. A few weeks later, all of their bones were found neatly placed along the perimeter. The boyfriend’s and the friends’. No one went to the drive-in after that. It went out of business.”

  I looked over at the drive-in, which was just a dark, dilapidated mass of burned-down, graffiti-tagged boards.

  And now, more than ten years after hearing that story, I was about to head into those woods with my own boyfriend. To find Shelby’s fiancé. This was not my brightest idea.

  I pulled up next to Justin’s truck, which was parked right by the Dead Forest across from the drive-in. He was leaning against the passenger’s side door while Caleb paced in front of the path into the forest. Neither looked happy to see me.

  I ignored their head-shakes, got out, and gave my boyfriend a quick hug. He looked good in his deputy uniform, his thick dark-hair blowing a little in the wind. The hug was awkward, though, like he wanted me to know I shouldn’t have come. This was official police business, after all. And I hadn’t even mentioned I was showing up.

  But something had drawn me to this place at this time. It was hard to explain, but it was almost like I had to come.

  Caleb waved his arms wildly when I looked over at him. “What in the hell are you doing here, Carly Mae?” His voice dripped with the kind of disgust you reserve for cockroaches. But then, Sheriff Caleb Bowman was my ex-husband’s cousin, and when my ex died without kids or siblings, Caleb expected to receive the entire Bowman inheritance. Instead, the cockroach had received everything.

  Caleb scratched at his dyed-black goatee, his favorite nervous habit. “The state police are gonna be here soon. We closed off the street. How did you…”

  “I drove around the closure signs, same as the state police are going to do,” I said, matter-of-factly.

  Caleb shook his head, again. “We can’t have this. Do you know how unprofessional we are gonna look, calling out the state police and then introducing them to a… a girlfriend? Carly Mae, you need to go.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Justin said to Caleb.

  Handle it? I bit back my annoyance.

  “You shouldn�
�t be here, Carly,” my boyfriend said. “Come on, now. You know that.”

  Caleb’s feet crunched along the sticks and leaves as he waved good-bye to me. “She ought to be arrested. Going around official road closure signs is an offense, punishable by at least a fine, I’m sure.”

  “Nobody’s getting arrested,” he told me like I was worried. Reluctantly, I got back in my car, even though every part of me knew I was supposed to be here. It was like knowing you had sugar in the cabinet without checking.

  Caleb whispered to Justin as I opened my car door, but I still overheard. “I’d just feel a heck of a lot better about this if old George remembered what he saw last week. It could be anything.”

  About a week ago, George had passed out in the Dead Forest during an unofficial search party for Bobby and his brothers. Apparently, the search party had formed a human chain to go into the first part of the woods in the area where Bobby’s wallet chain had been spotted. No one really believed the rumors about becoming disoriented if you went off the paths of the Dead Forest, but no one wanted to test things out too much either.

  Just before George passed out, he pointed into the distance like he’d spotted something awful. His face went white and his mouth dropped.

  Everyone thought he’d suffered a heart attack. They called 911, and attempted to get him out of the forest safely. It had taken five people to even lift the man up, and when they finally did, they noticed a black leather wallet directly under him with the initials BFF. Bobby’s full name was Bobby Furgus Franklin.

  When they opened the wallet up, they confirmed its owner. Along with his driver’s license and debit card, that wallet had also contained more than twenty-five hundred dollars in it.

  It was almost the same amount Shelby had reported missing from their mattress bank.

  Fortunately, George was fine. It hadn’t been a heart attack. The official report was stress and anxiety, but I think it was fear. George said he couldn’t remember what he saw in the forest that triggered the incident. But he was probably blocking it out.

  And now, the police were coming in. The big ones from upstate.

  As soon as I got back into my car, my ex-husband appeared in the passenger’s seat beside me. He was just a faded version of himself now that he was dead, which meant he was just as annoying but not as visible. His coloring was actually good today, a stark contrast to my gray leather seats.

  He chuckled. “Did you really think they were going to let you walk into the forest with them, or hang out and critique their police work,” he said as I pulled my car along the dirt path again.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly.” I passed four unmarked police cars heading down the deserted road to the drive-in as I drove out. I waved politely. Stoic faces stared straight ahead, hands at ten and two. No smiles. No waves. And I thought we Wisconsinites prided ourselves on our friendliness.

  I waited to talk to my ex again until all the vehicles had passed. Since I was the only one who could ever see the ghosts around me, it had become second nature to avoid talking to them around others. “I can’t explain it. It’s just a gut feeling. But I know I am meant to be here. Maybe not to go into the forest, yet, but I just feel like I’m needed.”

  Jackson tugged on his ghost beard, a pretentious move that annoyed me just as much now as ever. But at least he wasn’t combing, styling, and talking to it anymore.

  “What you could be feeling is our newest client. She haunts at the Dead Forest,” he said.

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Or, your delusional egotism could be acting up again, even though you pretend that I’m the one with the large head.”

  “You are.”

  “Yes,” he deadpanned. “You’re right. Your police officer boyfriend needs your help to do his job. You should go back and demand to be a part of it all.”

  Two more police cars passed me. I slowed down and watched them zoom by. “Six cars? For a wallet.” I put my foot on the brake and peeked at them in my rearview mirror as they kicked dirt along the path, driving full speed to get to the others. “And they do seem to be in a hurry. Those hyper-focused police officers probably wouldn’t even notice a Civic turning around, and parking far enough away to watch.”

  “And the delusion knows no boundaries,” he said.

  After waiting a good five minutes to see if anymore cars came along the path, I quickly turned my Civic around and headed back toward the drive-in, slowly so I wouldn’t make too much noise.

  The Dead Forest seemed fine in the day, or at least that’s what I told myself. The trees didn’t look dangerous or sinister. No paranormal mist circling through bone gray branches.

  Just before the bend that would reveal my car to the others, I stopped along the road, grabbed the bear spray I now kept in my glove compartment next to the regular mace, and opened my car door.

  Jackson stared at me like I was insane.

  “Just come with me and let me know if you see anything strange,” I said.

  “Carly doll, you know I adore you, and I’d do anything for you, but you also know that means only the things that are fun or that benefit me.”

  “Then stay. I don’t care.” I got out and gently closed the door so no one would hear it. Thankfully, Jackson was right behind me.

  “And only talk if you notice something. I need to keep my focus,” I said, pulling the key fob out of my pocket, about to hit the door locks. I thought better about it last second.

  I quickly checked the watch on my cellphone. It was a little after ten. I’d need to head into work soon. I only had about twenty minutes to spy on my boyfriend. And I wasn’t even sure why I was spying.

  Something about these “police officers from upstate” seemed off, from the moment I heard they were coming. I just wasn’t sure why there was so much interest over a few missing men who’d left on their own.

  After jogging down the short embankment that the road sat on, I realized I was very close to the forest. And that it seemed to want me to get even closer.

  It looked like a normal forest, even though I refused to look at it too much. Instead, I walked about fifteen feet from the path. But every once in a while when I’d look up, I’d notice I was getting closer to it than I’d intended, as if I was a piece of metal being slowly drawn by an incredibly strong magnet.

  I made a conscious effort to notice the distance and move away from the magnet every time I realized I was drifting.

  The wind picked up and I briefly wished I would’ve worn something warmer than my skinny jeans and the cute, new “perfect-for-spring” jacket I found online that was probably only meant for places with perfect-for-spring weather. Spring in Wisconsin still needed winter jackets.

  Peeking around the bend, I saw more than ten police officers in plain clothes standing by the path that I suspected was where the search party had discovered the wallet. Three German shepherds smelled what looked like an article of clothing that Shelby probably provided for them from Bobby’s things.

  Justin and Caleb didn’t seem to be contributing anything to the search beyond yakking and pointing. Half the police officers and all three dogs went down the path, while the remaining ones stayed on the outskirts watching with radios.

  From what I could tell, the dogs were just sniffing around the forest, none were going crazy.

  I held my breath, hoping they wouldn’t find him. Shelby would be devastated. The baby would never get to know his daddy. No big loss there, but still. And all because Bobby’s brothers had come for Christmas and stayed until February. Shelby had given her fiancé the ultimatum, them or her, and he had chosen them.

  But why would that ultimatum have driven Bobby to run into the Dead Forest with $2,500?

  While I was thinking of all the possibilities, which were none, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, a black mass moving swiftly between the lanky trees in the forest just ahead of me. It was headed toward the police search. And it was going at a faster-than-human pace.


  I held in a scream as I dropped my bear spray down by my feet then quickly scrambled to find it in the thick weeds. The shadow was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I took off up the embankment and back over to my car, my eyes on the fast-moving shadow the whole time. “What the hell?” I kept repeating under my breath as I checked the car over for a hook on the handles or anything else out of the ordinary before grabbing the driver’s side door and getting in. Growing up watching horror movies makes you a little paranoid.

  I checked the backseat over thoroughly too. Then, after a complete inspection for hidden killers, I finally turned on the car.

  “Did you see that,” I asked my ex-husband. “I don’t know what it was, but I should warn Justin. We have to get out of here.”

  “Am I allowed to talk now?” Jackson said in his trademark snotty tone. He appeared in the passenger’s seat again. “I never saw anything except you freaking out over nothing.”

  I turned my car around and pulled up the dirt road again. Unfortunately, I still had to drive slowly so the police wouldn’t hear me, making this a slow-motion escape from probably nothing. I stopped briefly to text Justin.

  Be careful. I saw a shadow moving near you guys in the woods on my way out. Something short, squarish, and dark that didn’t seem human or German shepherd like.

  As I was about to pull onto the main road to get to work, I suddenly got the feeling there was more in this car than my ex. But I also knew I’d checked everything over in my fit of paranoia. That could mean only one thing.

  I pulled over and pointed into the backseat’s upholstery. “Show yourself,” I demanded.