O’Toole House Chapter 13
The next morning, Bradley’s phone rang as they were wrapping up the discussion of Mama’s Kitchen, where the salt around the necklace had apparently resolved the problem. He answered in that curt, almost polite way he’d started after James got on him for his phone manners months earlier. But he immediately scowled.
“No, that’s not at all what that means,” he said, pacing the narrow space between the dining room table and James’s office. “Yes, the readings and cameras have been quiet for the past couple days, but-”
The other person cut him off and Gabriella looked at him curiously. From the computer bank, Amelia was also watching.
“No, don’t put words in my mouth,” Bradley snapped. “I’m not saying your family made up anything, so don’t pin that on me.”
“Bradley, what the hell-” Amelia started quietly, but he waved her off.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” he said finally. “But what I can tell you is that we are in the middle of an active investigation on that property. Yes, it has been quiet for several days. Maybe that’s a good thing. But it’s also something that’s happened before. So-”
Again, Nick Bana cut him off. Bradley’s mouth was set in a thin line as he listened to the other man.
“I cannot tell you what to do,” he said again. “But I would advise against it.”
He listened for a second, then hung up. “Big Man Nick Bana has decided that the demon wasn’t real after all. His family is moving back into the house today.”
“Great,” Gabriella muttered. “This thing is calling his twelve-year-old daughter a whore and he’s convinced she’s making it up.”
Madelyn swore softly, but Gabriella just shrugged and looked at Bradley. “There’s nothing we can do, is there?”
“No,” he said, collapsing onto the couch facing her. “We keep going on with the case. Unless Sarah Bana pulls it or Nick Bana gets the police involved, we keep going.”
His phone rang just as he said this. He answered, again rote and on the edge of politeness. “Yes, this is Bradley,” he said, standing back up.
He listened for a second, his face thunderous. “We can stay away for a few days, yes,” he said. “But more than that and we’ll have to drop the case.”
“No-” Gabriella heard a female voice say on the other end, but anything else was too quiet for her to hear from here.
“We can give it a few days,” Bradley repeated. “A week, tops. That’s the Foundation’s rule, not mine. We can’t just hang around indefinitely while your husband decides whether he believes you and your daughter or not.”
“Bradley,” Amelia said quietly.
“Right,” he said. “Call me then.”
He hung up. “Jesus FUCKING Christ,” he snapped, pressing his hands to the back of his head.
He walked down the hallway, then back, before letting out a long breath. “The Banas want a few days off from the investigation,” he said unnecessarily as he got back to the living room.
“Why?” Gabriella asked, as though she didn’t already know.
“Because he’s ‘not sure if this is a good thing for his daughter to be exposed to,’” Bradley said. “And the only bit of backbone she’s showing is that she isn’t canceling completely right now. But we can’t just wait on them forever. Eventually we need our shit back from their house.”
“Fine,” Amelia said, shaking her head. “Whatever. There’s plenty to do. Gabriella, if you don’t mind archiving it in the system for now, there’s other cases that need attention. I’ll put you two on those and…” She trailed off and Gabriella noted, yet again, how tired she looked. “No, wait, don’t archive it. The Foundation’s watching our archiving patterns now because they’re monsters.”
They were still considering whether or not to punish James, weren’t they? Maybe they shouldn’t be encouraging him to come back here. “Just leave it,” Amelia said. “We can overlap cases and just leave a note or something. Who gives a shit?”
She sighed. “Alright, the meeting’s done anyway. Gabriella and Bradley, give me like twenty minutes and I’ll have something new for both of you. Or six new things.”
She went into James’s office, texting with a frown on her face, and Bradley stormed off toward the gym. Gabriella had considered doing her workout, but she didn’t want to be in there right now. A quick glance at the chore roster showed that she was up for linens and James was up for cleaning the kitchen.
She did the kitchen first.
***
James was asleep when Gabriella got to his house after work. That made sense, it was late. Graham was staying over Madelyn’s tonight, which was the only reason why she was here when Bradley had stopped by earlier too.
She’d been staying at headquarters the past few nights, even though she wasn’t on the overnight shift. Even if the cleansing had worked – which she was very skeptical about – she was going to have to psych herself up to go back to her house right now. Which was immensely frustrating and honestly, she didn’t have it in her at the moment.
She got to the apartment and saw the open bedroom door, which was encouraging. When she looked in, James was asleep in his bed, facing away from her. There was a half-smoked joint in a small cup beside the bed, but nothing lit and the weed smell in the room had dissipated out the open window. James was breathing, so Gabriella slipped out of the room and went into the kitchen.
She’d brought another small container of soup – minestrone this time – over yesterday and it was half-empty. So as long as he knew she’d made it, he was willing to eat it. That was encouraging. Not that she was about to open a restaurant or anything, but she knew her way around soups well enough that maybe she could just keep doing this for a while.
There was also some kind of pasta dish in the fridge. It smelled good and there was a little note in Graham’s handwriting saying it was up for grabs. He was being such a good sport about having everyone in and out of his house everyday, maybe she’d make him something to say thank you. She grabbed a serving of pasta, then sat down at the kitchen table.
She’d much rather have James out here eating with her, if what had happened had to be. But she knew he was safe and she was away from the demon house for a little longer without having to be at work. It was peaceful here.
At least, it was peaceful until James screamed. Gabriella had been scrolling on her phone, not thinking about much at all, until she heard it. Then she was out of her seat and running for his room.
James was curled tightly on his side, screaming. As she got to the bed, she realized his eyes were still closed. “Wake up,” she said, shaking his shoulder.
“No, no,” he whimpered, and she shook him harder.
“James!”
He screamed again. “James, wake up!” Gabriella ordered, shaking him hard enough that it had to be painful.
He opened his eyes and looked up at her. “Gab?” he whispered.
“Just me.”
He closed his eyes again, seeming to curl into himself even harder. Maybe she should give him some privacy, but he hadn’t actually kicked her out yet, so she touched his shoulder through the blanket.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Hey, whatever it was, it was a nightmare.”
She wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them because clearly only a small portion of this was an actual nightmare. He moved closer to her and she kept her hand firmly on his shoulder, wanting desperately to give him a hug.
Finally, he sat up and let out a long breath. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely, running a hand through his messy hair.
“It’s fine.”
He blinked at her. “What are you doing here?”
“Graham said I could have the couch tonight. Are you hungry?”
He shook his head, but she also didn’t quite believe that. “Sorry,” he said again. “I’m fine.”
She wanted to keep offering him things, but he wasn’t going to take any and she knew it. James stood up. “I’m fine,” he repeated as he wobbled and she moved to steady him. “No, it’s…Jolene put me on a sleep aid and I think it’s making things worse. I’m going to stop taking it.”
He walked out of the room and she followed, moving toward the kitchen table as he went past her to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back out.
“Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Graham said I could have the couch.”
“Why?”
“There was a, um-” No, she still couldn’t tell him about the case. He’d try to help. Or shatter, she truly wasn’t sure. “There’s a water leak at my apartment.”
“Oh.”
“Want any pasta?” she asked.
He shook his head, but did go to the fridge and pull out the rest of the minestrone she’d made. After a few tries, he got it in the microwave and stared at the bowl as it slowly spun. Then he took it out and sat across from her at the table.
She tried to think of anything to tell him that wasn’t about working. But it was all work. She wanted to tell him about Elliot, about how he and Bradley had been right about him and how she still hadn’t called him back. Or how she’d called Bradley a fucking asshole over comms and meant it, even if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Or how much Amelia missed him. Or maybe something funny, like Madelyn cutting Fang’s nails that morning and the battle it became.
“Want to watch a movie?” she asked instead.
He nodded silently, then kept eating the soup. “Thanks for this,” he said softly.
“Sure.”
He finished eating and then went to the fridge and pulled out one of Angie’s brownies. “Last one,” he said. “Want to split it?”
Mixing weed with whatever he had taken was probably not the safest thing, but was he going to stop if she told him to? “No thanks,” she said.
James cut it in half and put half back in the fridge. “It’s there if you want it.”
“Thanks.”
Graham had an extensive DVD collection and Gabriella could have looked through it all night just for fun. But she pulled out a stupid comedy and turned it on. James sat on the couch and she sat on the other side, pretending not to be watching him as he watched the movie, occasionally glancing over at her too.
About halfway through the movie, she looked over and saw that he was asleep again, tucked into the cushion with his head on the armrest. He didn’t wake up as she tucked a blanket over him, touching him as little as possible.
Then she went back to the movie, falling asleep herself only a few minutes later.
***
James was still asleep when Gabriella got up the next morning. That was a little concerning, but for all she knew he’d woken up for several hours the night before. And again, he was breathing, so it was fine.
Probably.
She walked quickly through the pouring rain and got to headquarters a few minutes before her shift was starting. As she got inside, she immediately saw Jolene sitting in the living room, working on a laptop. She was wearing a fuzzy cardigan and had her hair in a knot on her head, looking more casual than Gabriella had ever seen. Bradley was sitting on the couch and neither of them saw her walking up the stairs.
“We’ll have to talk to orthopedics, I’m not an expert,” Jolene was saying. “But if I had to guess, they’re going to say it needs surgery. But since it happened at work this time, St. Hildegard’s should take over your care.”
“I can’t take time off right now,” Bradley said. “We’re barely keeping it together.”
“I know,” Jolene said. “It’s going to take some time to get an appointment anyway. Just keep doing your physical therapy for now and we’ll sort it out. Tell me if it gets too bad and we can figure something out for that.”
“Yeah.”
Gabriella kicked off her shoes and started up the stairs, making as much noise as she could to show them she was there. Jolene turned and smiled.
“Hello,” she said.
Bradley nodded at her, then his phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, hurrying toward the back bedroom and leaving her alone with Jolene.
Normally when Gabriella was in a situation with Jolene, Jolene had her white coat and was, if not necessarily the person in charge, usually an authority in the room. And she was older than them, probably around forty if Gabriella had to guess. So maybe not much older than Bradley, but significantly older than Gabriella. But right now she just looked like one of the team.
She shrugged off her jacket. “You’re soaked,” Jolene said.
“I walked here from James’s apartment,” Gabriella said. “I forgot my umbrella.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He says the medicine is giving him nightmares, so he’s going to stop taking it.”
Jolene nodded. “That’s fair,” she said. “I’ll check in with him later today anyway, so I’ll ask about it.”
“He mixed it with weed,” Gabriella said quietly, feeling like a tattletale. “Is that alright?”
Jolene shrugged. “Not everyday, but it’s okay.”
“Are you worried about the weed?”
“I mean, I’m not thrilled about anybody smoking anything,” Jolene admitted. “But I’m also not the one who got attacked and mind-controlled during a case, so I’m not going to go yell at him for how he’s coping right now.”
That was fair. “He was sleeping when I left,” Gabriella said. “Are you going over shortly?”
“No, I have to go to South County in-” Jolene checked her watch. “-about thirty seconds, then stop by Hampden before I go home.”
“Where’s home?” Gabriella asked. “Sorry, I’m being nosy.”
Jolene laughed. “It’s fine. I live over in Bolton.”
Bolton wasn’t very far from Leominster, but that was an obnoxious drive to St. Hildegard’s over in Chestnut Hill. And now Gabriella was even more curious, but before she could ask any further questions about Jolene’s personal life, Bradley was coming out of the back bedroom on his phone.
“-like last time, it was quiet and then it wasn’t. Which is exactly why we didn’t want you back in the house. Is she there right now?”
Oh shit, what happened now? Bradley looked at her and shook his head as he listened to whichever Bana he currently had on the phone. Meanwhile, Jolene slipped past them and down the stairs toward the front door.
“When they release her, do not bring her back to that house. I don’t care what your husband has to say about it.”
He stopped, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Yeah, it was reckless and stupid to even bring her back into the house. What were you thinking?”
“Hey, Bradley?” Gabriella said.
He waved her off. “No, he didn’t call, I haven’t talked to him at all. Take her to a hotel, any hotel. Anywhere that isn’t your house. Family members, Disneyworld, anywhere other than that house. Do you understand?”
“Bradley,” Gabriella said again, louder this time.
“She shouldn’t have been in there in the first place!” Bradley snapped.
“Bradley!”
He looked at her. “Give me the phone,” Gabriella told him.
“We’re almost done,” Bradley said. “Hang on.”
She held out her hand. “That woman has been dealing with Bana and his behavior for months. She fucked up, but she needs someone to show her some kindness. Give me the phone, please.”
He held out his phone and she took it. “Mrs. Bana, this is Gabriella,” she said.
“I’m so sorry,” Sarah Bana sobbed.
“How is Melissa?”
“She’s scared,” Sarah said. “It broke her wrist.”
Shit, things had escalated that much. “And they still have her at the emergency room?”
“I’m there with her now.”
“Alright,” Gabriella said, keeping her voice gentle. “Is your husband with you?”
“No, I brought her myself. I don’t know where he is.”
So he’d either checked out when the ghosts got too real or was denying anything was wrong again. “Okay,” she said. “Don’t bring her back to that house until we figure out what’s going on, alright? Do you have somewhere to go?”
“I can go back to the hotel,” Mrs. Bana said, sounding a little less shaky now. “Or my mother’s house.”
“Good,” Gabriella said. “Go there. Me and Bradley will figure out the next steps.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Gabriella promised.
She handed Bradley his phone back. “Mrs. Bana?” he said. “I’m sorry. Go to the hotel. We’ll figure it out.”
He hung up a few seconds later then sat down on the couch with a groan. “It threw her across the room and broke her wrist,” he said.
Gabriella felt nauseous at the thought. “You’re nicer than me,” Bradley said.
“I know.”
He huffed a laugh and shook his head, looking out the window at the rain.
