Dead Sure?: A Paranormal Mystery by Eric Webster Read Free Book Online Page B

aggravation, especially one with an inherent attitude. I don’t need whatever crap this is.
    Jack had been reasonably polite so far, but Ron felt Jack was a loaded gun just waiting to go off. And, Ron was not about to put up with any bullshit. These protestors have picked the wrong guy to mess with on the wrong day.
    “March your asses right out of my construction zone and back across the street. Do you understand me!” bellowed Ron.
    Before Liam or any of the others could reply, a news reporter and camera man came sprinting up. “This looks like it could be good, Ted,” mumbled the camera man.
    “It sure does,” replied Ted with a smirk.
    “Hell no, we won’t go!” Liam yelled into his megaphone.
    Oh crap, the media, this kind of shit never goes well, Ron thought before beginning to back pedal. “Please remove yourselves from the construction zone. This is not a safe area; that’s why the barricades are up,” Ron forced himself to say in a tone bordering on polite.
    Sticking his microphone in Liam’s face, the reporter began his spiel, “Sir, my name is Ted Smith. I am with the Channel 5 News. Can you tell me why your group is here and what this conflict is about?”
    “My name is Liam Wilhelm with the Historical Landmark Preservation Society. This conflict is abou...”
    Ron cut Liam off mid sentence. “There is no conflict, just a job to be done and people that are trying to get in the way. So please take your interview across the street and out of this area.”
    Ted, always wanting to go for better ratings, wasn’t going to let this one get away that easily. “Let the man speak.”
    “Save the bank building!” chimed in Rene. She could feel her blood beginning to boil.
                  Emboldened by Rene’s speaking up, Liam poked Ron hard in the right shoulder.  “I will tell my story when and where I want to!”
    The look of an enraged bull came over Ron’s face. Liam shuddered as he saw the expression. Ron grabbed Liam by the collar and took a swing at him.
     
    *    *    *
     
                  Just over halfway down the seventh floor hallway, Sam froze in his tracks. What the hell is this? There’s still a door on this office.
     
    T.I.M.
    Banking and Investment Firm
     
    Sam’s uneasy feelings had resurfaced, only much stronger now. What kind of strange shit is going on? I’m not liking this at all! He turned the door knob hesitantly. The locked handle deigning him entrance. That figures, nothing is ever easy. He slid a medium-sized pry bar from his tool belt and with a tug he tried to open the door, but it wasn’t budging. Fine, forget careful!  And with that, Sam braced one foot against the door frame and gave a mighty pull. There was a loud crack as the wood frame gave and the door swung open into the hall, almost knocking him off his feet.
    Much to Sam’s surprise the office was still fully furnished. A strong odor of cigar smoke permeated the room. It was as if the occupants of this office were still using it, but the building had been closed down months ago.
    Sam looked around; there was a desk to the left, with an antique high-backed leather office chair sitting behind it. On either sides of the desk were large filing cabinets; some of the file drawers were ajar. The drawers were cleaned out except for some empty folders and worthless-looking papers strewn about.
    Sam walked over to the desk and sat down. Who sat in this desk and with this view? Sam wondered.  The desk was located in such a way that its occupant commanded the room. Looking left, Sam saw floor-to-ceiling windows with a wonderful view of the city. Straight ahead on the other side of the room were two leather wing chairs, with a solid cherry end table in-between. On top of the table was a strangely shaped blue and white vase with dry dead flowers in it. On the wall above the table was a large oil painting.  Sam felt drawn towards the painting. With apprehension, Sam walked over to the