Red Tide: The Flavel House Horror / Vampires of the Morgue (The Ian McDermott, Ph.D., Paranormal Investigator Series Book 2) by David Reuben Aslin Read Free Book Online

potential risks involved.”
    Officer Parker stared intensely at Ian for a long couple of seconds. “Okay then. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Listen Ian, we need to talk away from here.” Ian nodded, indicating that he understood and agreed.
    Officer Parker continued, “Do you know where the Astoria Column is located? I’m sure you’ve seen it. It’s visible from most parts of town and from the bridge for certain.”
    Ian smiled as he replied, “You mean that tall needle-style tower that you can see way up on the hillside above the town?”
    Officer Parker grinned, “That’d be it. Anyway, to get up there’s a piece of cake. Just follow about any road in town that heads up the hill. You’ll see signs directing you once you’ve headed uphill a ways. It ain’t far. Fact is, besides the Column, you should take a glance at where our suspect resides. Just follow the one-way road in front of the station here and take the second right. Follow that for about four blocks, and you can’t miss it. Salizzar’s house still has a sign out front that says the ‘ Flavel House Museum.’ It’s been weeks since he moved in, and the son-of-a-bitch still hasn’t taken down the sign. Between you and me, I think it’s just another way he’s sticking his middle finger out at this entire town.”
    Officer Parker walked with Ian towards the front entry of the station. “I’d show you out, but I don’t want us to look too warm and fuzzy. You head up to the Column. Climb up to the top if you want. It’s a hell of a nice view. I’ll be up there in maybe an hour. I’ll be in my own personal vehicle. It’s a light gray Toyota Camry. I know what you drive. That Wagoneer.” Ian was astonished by that declaration. What he heard next dispelled his astonishment. Officer Parker smiled and laughed, “No. I’m not psychic. And no, you haven’t been under surveillance. I was near the front door when you got here. Just by coincidence, I saw you park your rig and cross the street. And jay-walk across the street, I might add.”

 
    CHAPTER 3
    One Way Up. One Way Down.
     
     
    At first, Ian figured that he probably had time to visit a liquor store to pick up a new bottle of liquid courage, but he changed his mind. “It’s about time I start giving my liver a vacation.” Ever since the vehicular tragedy that took from him the loves of his life, his wife and daughter – all Ian had cared about in the world besides his work – he hadn’t thought there would ever be a time that he would muster the strength required to climb out of the bottle and stay out. He wasn’t sure this was that time either. One foot in front of the other. One step, and one day, at a time . Ian thought about that phrase. It had seemed no more than a ridiculous twist on an old cliché to him at the time.
    One foot in front of the other. One step, and one day, at a time , had been spoken time and again by a Catholic priest. One who counseled the twelve steps to a sobriety group that Ian had once sat begrudgingly through in a half-assed attempt at getting people, mostly relatives that he didn’t even really know, off his back about his drinking. Back then, Ian wouldn’t have taken advice from the Pope himself. What seemed to Ian to be fairly obvious, but nobody else seemed to grasp, was that it wasn’t so much that he was addicted to alcohol, Jack Daniels old number “7” in particular, as he was addicted to his long-term depression. And especially back then, no amount of counseling or prescription anti-depressants, all too often chased with booze, helped in any way beyond putting him momentarily in a state of comfortable numbness followed by passing into peaceful darkness that unfortunately sooner or later became painfully illuminated once again.
    Then and now no treatment worked, other than what Ian himself very recently discovered: delving back into work was his only possible salvation. That in itself kept him too busy to sink back into his potentially