O’Toole House Chapter 3
A couple hours later, Gabriella was in the van with Bradley, heading down the highway into Fitchburg. The early March afternoon was somewhat warm, with occasional sharp winds through the window she kept cracked open as they drove in silence. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk and she didn’t blame him after those insurance meetings. James had been dealing with that, hadn’t he? Something about changing or cutting benefits, she wasn’t sure. Either way, it hadn’t been good.
Gabriella wanted to go see James today, but she was just there yesterday. Too many people stopping by and he might get mad and try to kick them all out. They were only a few days in, but she could tell already that it was a careful balance. If they were going to make it work for the month, then they had to be smart about it. So as tempting as it was, she’d wait until tomorrow.
Bradley was driving, so Gabriella went back over the notes, both hers and the ones in the case file. Demons were demons, so it was probably the same case spread out over nearly a century. But why return now?
The Foundation’s actual report glossed over the nineteen forties, saying there was activity, then leaving it there. Now there was a new family, they were five months in, and the demonic activity had reached levels Gabriella was surprised they had a regional branch handling.
Not that she wanted to toss more on Father McEnerney’s plate, but demons were usually his thing. The team would help before and after, but their cleansing assignments usually didn’t get worse than intense ghosts.
“Why do we have this case?” she asked Bradley, absently cleaning up some gum wrappers scattered in the center console. “These are straight demons.”
“They’ve got the Father running ragged,” he replied. “I’m not surprised they sent it to us. We’ve gotten plenty of them before.”
“Yeah, but not like this,” she said. “Not treating it like a normal case. This is like a horror movie.”
“And now we’re the investigation team that gets torn apart in the first ten minutes,” Bradley said.
She went back to her notes, trying not to let that image stress her out. “What happened in the forties?” Bradley asked her as he got off the highway and pulled immediately into a heavily wooded area dotted with sprawling, beautiful homes.
“O’Toole was trying to get revenge on his neighbors for something by summoning a demon,” Gabriella said as she looked through the pile of folders for her notebook. “They died and he disappeared. He told some other neighbors what he was doing, but no one could contact him afterward. I mean, it was easier to disappear in those days, but he, like, disappeared. Vanished into thin air. The Foundation’s notes on it seem to assume he was killed too.”
“But there’s no proof.”
“No,” she said. “But honestly, it’s the strongest theory I can think of until we get more information. I’ll be researching more this afternoon, once I have the family’s story. I’m thinking I’ll look for details about the sale of the house. That has to be the catalyst.”
She could find deeds and public records at the library, so maybe she’d do that this afternoon. Digging through a messy database at the public library was the perfect distraction, at least for a little while.
“Also, I need to warn you,” Bradley said as the trees around them dropped away as they approached the much more urban downtown area of Fitchburg where Gabriella lived. “The other teams in the region have been reaching out. Confidentiality apparently means fuck-all in the Foundation, but we’ve gotten some offers of support.”
“That’s nice,” Gabriella said, though anger simmered in her stomach at the thought of Foundation administrators gossiping about James over lunch.
“Yeah, I guess. Here’s the thing, though. Hillsborough went to McGovern, not us, with the offer. And he took it without consulting us.”
“Ah.” Gabriella was dreading his next words.
“They’re sending personnel to cover some shifts and help us out. And unfortunately, we actually need that because we’re not lasting the month McManus is gone at this speed, especially when Madelyn’s in Brazil.”
So both of them were carefully working under the assumption that James would be coming back.
“Can I guess who they’re sending?” Gabriella asked.
“I don’t think you have to,” Bradley replied. “Saskia will be running some shifts here that require a captain when Amelia’s off. And they’ll be bringing a few people too, probably including the Ghost King.”
“Whatever,” Gabriella said. “Honestly, a warm body is a warm body at this point.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.”
“I told him we could still be friends.”
“That was cliché and stupid.”
Alright, they were on familiar territory. “He put me on the spot,” she said. “And I folded.”
“You have to stop doing that.”
“I know. I’m weak.”
Elliot didn’t want to date her and had given her a list of competing reasons she did not fully believe. The schedule thing? Bullshit. The fact that she worked a dangerous job? Maybe? More likely? She didn’t know.
The fact that Bradley didn’t like him? That one she fully believed.
“I didn’t see any of that when you were chasing that creep Adele out of the house,” Bradley said.
How could he have seen anything? He’d tackled James like a fucking wildcat as she’d chased Adele away. And she had to admit, under the rage and terror, defending the house like that had felt oddly natural. As natural as her role as a researcher. That might be something to consider a little more when things were quiet.
“I’m just saying,” Bradley said when she didn’t answer.
“You’re always just saying. Stop saying.”
They were a block away from her apartment now, so the O’Toole House was coming up quickly. Gabriella glanced out the window at the trash and recycling totes lined up neatly on the sidewalk. Shit, hers were still in the shadows behind her building and there was no time to stop and take them out.
“The psychic they hired claims the house was cleansed of energy,” Gabriella said. “I assume there’s no way to prove that is or isn’t true? Like, we can measure energy levels, but maybe it went away and then came back.”
“It would have come back overnight,” Bradley said. “They didn’t do shit, they collected their money and left.”
“And what exactly do you want us to do when we get there?”
“Standard start,” Bradley said as they drove past her house. “We’ll interview the family and set up the cameras. Then get some pictures and readings of our own.”
“Want me to do the interviews?”
He looked at her and she knew he could tell what she was thinking. “I just mean, for the workflow.”
“No, we both have to do this one. The husband is…unhappy that we’re here.”
“Speaking of clichés. Do you think he’s going to do something?”
“Like attack us? No, don’t get your hopes up.”
Gabriella’s face went hot. “I didn’t actually enjoy-”
“You’re allowed to enjoy it a little. Stop feeling so guilty, Jesus. Don’t be a martyr.”
Fine. Gabriella could admit that it had been nice to actually protect James the way he always protected her. She would just rather it not be during the worst moments of his life.
The O’Toole House was a pretty Colonial with significant changes and renovations made over the years. She knew from the notes that it had been built in the 1890s, but the more modern updates took up nearly half the structure.
“Thoughts?” Bradley asked as they got their equipment out.
She peered up at the building. “It’s had a lot of work done,” she said. “There’s an addition over there, probably a bedroom or living room. But most of the original structure is still there.”
“So there’s plenty of room for the demon to still be lingering, even if it stays in the parts that existed in the forties.”
“Yeah,” Gabriella said. “Is there any way for us to even attempt to record if there’s specifically demonic energy in the house?”
“No,” Bradley replied. “It reads the same as any other spiritual force.”
They strapped on their comms, then stepped onto the walkway. Bradley shuddered as he adjusted his earpiece. “You okay?” Gabriella asked.
“Fine.”
She had a video comms strapped on her chest, scraping awkwardly against her sweater. “When do we get the new comms?” she asked as she waited for it to connect.
“They claim next week,” Bradley said. “But who knows?”
The Foundation seemed torn between ignoring North Worcester County as much as possible or falling over themselves to either fix or cover up what had happened, depending on how generous Gabriella was feeling in her interpretation of that last one. Amelia had been the only person in touch with McGovern and Gabriella was pretty sure that was intentional. Even if he hadn’t meant anything by it, he was the one that gave the all clear for the Orson Center case to go as it had. And the day before yesterday, when she’d asked out loud why James had gone along with the Foundation’s bizarre requirements, hoping desperately that no one would take that as her blaming him, Bradley had actually explained everything.
There was probably information in there that she wasn’t supposed to know, but he was so angry that she both didn’t care and didn’t dare to stop him. But of course James would do whatever it took to keep the team safe, he always had.
And in this case, it nearly destroyed him.
The woman who opened the door was probably about Bradley’s age, with neat brown hair and thick-framed glasses. She smiled at them with relief. “Thank you for coming,” she said.
“Of course,” Bradley said. “I’m Bradley, this is Gabriella. We’re agents with the Foundation for Paranormal Studies.”
“Come in, please.”
She stepped aside and ushered them into the front hallway. Gabriella stepped in first, assessing the area. It was similar to a lot of homes in the region, opening directly into a hallway leading into the house with a staircase a few steps in and off to the side. The living room was on the other side of the staircase and she saw a comfortable looking setup in there, a sofa with a television and a bookshelf. If it weren’t for the books scattered on the floor and the dirt from several overturned flower pots by the window, it wouldn’t look like anything special.
Sarah saw her looking. “I take it you don’t have a toddler?” Gabriella asked.
“My daughter’s twelve,” Sarah said. “It did that last night. I didn’t want to touch it until you could see it.”
“Thank you,” Bradley said, his voice clipped and polite, but unusually strained. Gabriella looked over and saw that he’d gone paler than usual. “Today we’ll be interviewing anyone willing to be interviewed-”
“-That would just be me,” Sarah said apologetically. “I intentionally scheduled this while my daughter is at school. I didn’t want to involve her anymore than necessary just yet. It’s been really difficult.”
“Understood,” Bradley said.
“Is there anyone else in the house right now?” Gabriella asked, remembering what Bradley had said about Mr. Bana.
“My husband is here, but he doesn’t want to be part of this.”
Sarah’s apologetic tone took on a sharp edge that Gabriella could completely understand. “He thinks I’m making it up for attention.”
Bradley scoffed, then very clearly hid a wince. Gabriella caught his eye and he glared at her, then turned back to Sarah.
“Are you making it up for attention?” he asked.
Gabriella cringed and waited for Sarah to throw them out, but instead Sarah laughed. There was a desperation to it and after a moment, Gabriella wondered if she was about to cry. But she composed herself, wiping at her eyes.
“God, the amount of effort I’d have to go through,” she said. “I have a kid, a full-time job, and I’m in school. There’s no way I could do this.”
She shook her head and laughed again. “Come into the kitchen,” she said. “Do you want some tea?”
“Please,” Gabriella replied, before remembering the Foundation insisting that Adele was poisoning people through the food at the fair. But this was completely different. And most importantly, they’d been wrong anyway.
“I’m-” Bradley started as they walked into the kitchen, then turned and bolted out of the house.
“What the fuck?” Gabriella exclaimed before she could stop herself.
“Right back,” he called as he disappeared out the door.
Sarah turned back to Gabriella as the door slammed shut behind him. “Is he okay?” she asked.
“He…” Gabriella started. “Actually, I’ll be right back. I promise.”
She hurried out the door. There was no sound on her comms from Bradley’s, though they were different styles so that wasn’t too surprising. “Madelyn?” she said into her comms as she got outside, then spotted Bradley next to the van, bracing himself on the side door.
“Are you alright?” she asked as she got closer.
“Fine.”
“He puked in a bush,” Madelyn reported cheerfully over Gabriella’s comms unit.
“Do you want to head back to headquarters?” Gabriella asked.
He hadn’t seemed sick on the way here, but maybe it was one of those bugs that hit immediately. Those existed, right? Bradley shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m not sick.”
“Yeah, lots of non-sick people run out of client houses and puke in a bush,” Madelyn said.
“I’m fine,” he snapped. “I don’t know, something hit me when…”
“When we went into the demon house?” Gabriella finished.
“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s nothing.”
Now we know the demon energy is still there, she could almost hear James say cheerfully as Bradley went into the passenger seat for his water bottle. We don’t even need the sensor.
“Take your time,” she said. “I’m going back in. Do you want to stay out here?”
“No.”
“I have gum in my bag,” Gabriella said, then went back into the house.
Sarah was waiting anxiously in the kitchen. “Ma’am, when did you have the psychic investigator here?” Gabriella asked as Sarah motioned for her to take a seat.
“It was a team of two of them. And about two months ago,” Sarah replied. “Green tea or English breakfast.”
“Green, please,” Gabriella said. “And they told you they cleared the demonic energy?”
“They did,” she confirmed as she made Gabriella and herself a cup of tea. “They did this whole routine around the house.”
“What did they do?”
Sarah detailed the ritual the psychic investigators had done. There were no items involved, it was supposedly simply them and their powers driving the demonic forces out of the house. As she talked, Bradley came back into the room and sat beside Gabriella.
“And she claimed to go into a trance and astrally project through the rooms to see energy that can’t be seen with the human eye,” Sarah said. “Oh, English breakfast or green tea for you?”
“Green, please,” Bradley said, still looking rough.
“And they said it was gone?”
“They did,” Sarah said, her smile becoming more of a grimace. “They said that the demonic energy the house clung to was gone and would not be coming back. But of course they didn’t offer a money-back guarantee.”
“Did it make any difference?” Gabriella asked.
Sarah passed Bradley his tea, sat down at the table, and took a sip of her own. “I think it did,” she said. “Or, I don’t know. It was quiet for a few days, but the house was quiet anyway. It was just me here, Nick and Melissa were on a Girl Scouts trip for a few days and nothing happened during that time.”
Interesting. Gabriella noted this down, drawing a little asterisks and a reminder to look into poltergeist activity.
“Did your psychics tell you anything about the history of this house?” Bradley asked.
“They told me that the demons had been here before we moved in.”
O’Toole’s demons lingering, maybe? Or maybe they’d found information about the property online. It had been easy enough to get details through public sources when Gabriella was researching it last year. “Fitchburg’s Own Demon House,” as one video on social media had put it. There wasn’t a huge amount of information out there, but enough that a fake psychic could feasibly set up a realistic case.
Gabriella took notes, then continued doing so as Bradley took over the questioning for a few minutes. All the information lined up with the case file, which was good. They’d moved here several months ago, and the activity started quickly. At first it had been fairly generalized throughout the house. But then the daughter had started getting the brunt of it and that was when Sarah called in the psychics, who came well-recommended online. When the activity started up again, she’d asked around and been led to the Foundation.
“And has your husband not witnessed the phenomena?” Gabriella asked with a quick glance toward the hallway stairs.
“He…” Sarah sighed. “He’ll either tell me there’s a reasonable explanation or he’ll just kind of ignore what I’m saying.”
She pushed her short hair back behind her ear as she toyed with her tea mug. “Nick is a good guy,” she insisted. “He cares about us. But just something about this is like talking to a wall.”
“What was his reaction to your hiring us?”
“He told me if I wanted to waste the money, then that was why we had our own accounts.”
Gabriella was never quite sure about the Foundation’s way of charging people. James had told her early on that they didn’t do it much and had other funding sources. But that had been one of her first days there and Sarah wasn’t the first client to mention payments in the past year. Lorraine over at the Wildwood Hotel had mentioned it too, when she got mad at Gabriella about that case. Gabriella hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but it was strange.
Nick Bana didn’t come out at all as Gabriella and Bradley put up cameras on the lower floor. That was where the activity was located, the first floor and the cellar. No cameras were allowed upstairs, part of the compromise that allowed Sarah to get them in to investigate. But Gabriella wasn’t about to go put cameras in a twelve-year-old girl’s bedroom and she knew that Bradley sure as hell wasn’t either.
As they were putting up the last cameras in the old fieldstone cellar, she looked over at Bradley. He was sweating even down here where it was uncomfortably cold. “You look like shit,” she said.
“Shut up,” Bradley muttered.
“I know we’re short, but working through the flu is going to make things worse,” Gabriella said. “I saw you limping earlier, too.”
“Shut the fuck up, McManus,” Bradley said as he strapped the last camera up. “I’m fine.”
Gabriella swallowed hard. Not because of Bradley, but because of how quickly those words came out and how they were clearly directed toward a different McManus. She couldn’t tell if he noticed, he looked miserable enough already.
She took a quick energy reading by the washer and dryer, which only slightly hid a large hole in the stone wall. The energy detector nearly exploded as it took in the levels of activity there. But her hopes for a quick resolution faded as she walked around the cellar and the levels stayed the same, even in the places furthest from the hole.
Nothing special there. Nothing but rats getting in through that.
Once everything was done, Bradley went straight out the door with the equipment while Gabriella went up and talked to Sarah. “Is he alright?” Sarah asked, nodding toward the door.
“Yeah,” Gabriella replied.
“I only ask because one of the psychic investigators that was here claimed he was getting sick from the demonic energy,” Sarah said. “He was kind of dramatic about it. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I didn’t want to say he wasn’t because what do I know? He was kind of…swooning, is the best way I can describe it. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Gabriella said with a nod. “Yeah, Bradley didn’t swoon, but he, um, puked in a bush outside.”
“Blue house next door?”
“I think so.”
“That’s Mrs. Ludgate. She’s awful. Tell him to aim for that one again next time.”
“Are you staying here tonight?” Gabriella asked.
“No, I’m picking up my daughter and we’re going to my mother’s for the weekend.”
“Is your husband going too?”
Sarah hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said finally.
“One of us will be back to check the cameras tomorrow,” Gabriella said. “We’ll give it a few days for observations before making any solid plans.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said, her exhaustion suddenly more apparent. “We don’t want to leave the house permanently. I know that must sound so weird, but we finally had a chance to buy and I don’t know when the opportunity would come up again.”
Gabriella was about as close to space travel as she was to buying a house, but she could sympathize as she assured Sarah that she understood. A moment later, she walked out into the sharply cold air to see Bradley sitting in the driver’s seat of the van.
“No way!” she called as she reached the driver’s side window. “I just watched you almost throw up in that woman’s basement for an hour and a half. I’ll drive.”
“I feel fine now.”
Gabriella looked at him as he glared back. She had to admit, he didn’t look sick. But she still wasn’t trusting it.
“How about I drive and you do the initial report?” she offered, hoping against hope that that would be acceptable.
Bradley did so, but glowered down at the report the whole way back.
