“Perhaps whatever it is, is searching for something?” Luna suggested.
Lane stepped back from the dresser. “I’d say that’s a fair hypothesis. Jordan, you mentioned your grandfather passed away recently?”
Jordan remained outside her bedroom door. “Yeah. Almost a year ago.”
“Is there any other special occasion coming up for him? A birthday or anniversary?” Lane probed, tracing a finger along the silver frame of the mirror attached to the dresser. He considered the scene of the crime. The series of events leading up to this night. The Knocking. Someone or something trying to get Jordan’s attention to find something. There was something missing to bring the borders of this puzzle together.
“Yeah,” Jordan said, a finger pressed against her temple while she recalled, “My grandfolks anniversary is tomorrow. It would have been seventy years together since—”
Furious knocking rattled the room.
Luna stepped back as the pile of random objects suddenly leapt up and fell back down.
Lane smiled, “Jordan, what’s your grandfather’s name?”
Luna had already backed out of the room to stand beside Jordan.
Hesitantly, Jordan whispered, “Patrick.”
Again, there was a violent knocking that shook the bedroom. Jordan nearly fell over. Apollena held her steady. The banging didn’t cease as the temperature in the room dropped nearly twenty degrees. Lane could easily see his breath. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an ancient black ink pen and thumbed through his notebook.
“Lane, get out of there!” Jordan screamed over the deafening thuds.
Leave a Reply