“Oh, I’ve been in the advanced stages of rheumatoid arthritis for quite some time now,” the woman explained. “Things went downhill once my joints failed to function. I could no longer walk without feeling severe chronic pain, and sometimes even feeding myself is a huge chore. The disease affects the synovial lining of the joints and causes the cells to lower in number.”
Lacey nodded, remembering a co-worker at Crestwater Press who also suffered from this illness. She’d often take weeks off from work, the pain so severe she could barely leave her bed.
“So Julie doesn’t have a husband or children?” Lacey asked.
Mary Sue shook her head. “No, she gave up…”
“…everything to take care of you, yes.”
Julie walked in, a wooden tray between her pale hands. On top of it were a large pitcher of iced tea and two cups. She placed it down on the coffee table, over the stack of magazines and food wrappers. As she bent down, her shirt hung loosely, revealing a thin necklace and pendant. It appeared to be a simple square with a line running through it, and Lacey wondered what it meant.
Pouring a cup for Mary Sue, Julie offered it to her mother. The woman took it gratefully in one delicate hand, her fingers long and well manicured with pale pink polish.
Julie looked up at Lacey as she held the pitcher of tea, but Lacey could sense the hostility and lack of warmth in her gesture.
“No, thank you,” Lacey said. “I should get going.”
Julie didn’t argue. “I’ll walk you out, then.”
“Oh, thank you again, dear,” Mary Sue called after Lacey. “I hope to see you around.”
With Julie practically sticking to her back, Lacey couldn’t turn around to properly say goodbye. Once outside on the stoop, she released a breath, thankful to be out of the home and away from the stench.
“Thanks again for helping my mother,” Julie said, no real gratitude in her voice.
Lacey knew she should bite her tongue, but something about Julie and Mary Sue didn’t sit well with her.
“You should get the place cleaned up,” Lacey blurted out against all politeness. “It’s dangerous for an elderly woman who can’t walk to be surrounded by so much clutter.”
Julie glared at her, her beady eyes narrowed. “My mother is fine!”
“Oh, I know that,” Lacey countered, trying to hold Julie’s intimidating gaze. “In fact, I find it hard to believe the loving daughter who left the big city to help her mother is more concerned with painting her nails than cleaning up the home and airing out the rancid smell.”
Julie stammered a few words under breath, confusion forming.
“But maybe it wasn’t you who painted Mary Sue’s nails, was it?” Lacey pressed on, finally letting her anger bubble out of her mouth.
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Julie spat.
“Your mother is in the advanced stages of rheumatoid arthritis. Her joints supposedly have swelled up to the point she can no longer even feed herself. Yet, she has beautifully manicured nails, impeccably painted, and her fingers show no abnormalities at all. In fact,” Lacey took a step closer to the woman, a huge sense of injustice washing over her. “The way you grabbed your mother from the wheelchair and dropped her onto the sofa would make any elderly woman wince in pain. Yet, not only did she not cry out, but it showed no effect on her ailing body.”
Julie’s face twisted in anger. “What are you implying, Miss Shaw?”
Lacey took in a big breath, her mind reeling. Julie seemed like a nasty woman, her entire presence foul and alarming.
“What I’m implying is that your mother isn’t sick, and that somehow, you’ve fooled her into thinking she needs you. You are taking advantage of her somehow.”
Lacey turned around and walked down the walkway, eager to put distance between her and Julie. When she glanced over her shoulder, Julie was no longer at the stoop, but had quietly disappeared inside the Collins home.
Chapter Nineteen
It was nearing the end of the week and as Lacey sat in her room at Saddle Inn, she contemplated everything she’d learned in Raven Hills. Rolling Brian’s pen between her fingers, she worried he was in serious danger. She had to find him, and if Raven Hills’ police wouldn’t help her but instead continued to hide Brian’s presence, she would have to do it on her own.
She considered seeking help from law enforcement outside of Raven Hills, but her journalistic knowledge reminded her how pointless that would be. Other jurisdictions wouldn’t interfere with Raven Hills, and she knew that if any of them talked to Lieutenant Bennett, he’d simply lie to them just as he had with her.
But why lie at all? Why was everyone in town scared to admit Brain Ovelli had been there? And why did the entire town seem cursed with an unspeakable evil? There were too many questions and no answers that brought any resolution. Brian’s disappearance and everyone covering it up; Libby’s confinement in Hope Sanitarium after a strange murder and her odd relationship with Joann Derby; and now Julie, with her curious hold over her mother. This seemed to only scrape the surface of a long, hidden history.
Rising to her feet, Lacey tucked Brian’s pen in her back pocket. Resolution and fierce determination veiled over her. She would find the answers to these troubling questions, no matter what. But first, she needed to locate Brian, and she knew exactly where to look for him.
Taking a big inhale, Lacey smelled the damp and earthy scent around her. Staring at the Davidson property, she took in the tall clusters of trees making up the thick wooded area. She stood at the edge of the forest, feeling drawn to its existence. If Brian had gone missing, if he was hiding, or if anything terrible had happened to him, the forest ahead might reveal some clues. She only prayed not to find his dead body buried there. She didn’t know if she could handle one of her own being killed.
Steadying her shaking legs, she closed her eyes and reminded herself that part of her call as a journalist was to reveal the truth and deliver facts at all costs. That’s what she’d be doing now, except the entire assignment had turned more personal. Taking slow steps, she entered the clustered woods, beads of sweat already forming at the base of her neck.
The oak-brown forest slept quietly under the tall, twisted trees. Feathery moss created canopies overhead, and Lacey had to swipe at dangling low branches. The strong scent of the recent rainfall permeated the air, and trekking deeper into the woods, the smell turned into a pulpy aroma.
Lacey looked up, noticing a pair of crows perched on a curved tree branch. Their beady eyes observed her keenly and followed her every move with unsettling intelligence. She tore her gaze from them, nearly stumbling over a broken branch littering the mossy forest floor.
A patch of wild mushrooms grew under the shade of a large tree and she tried to find beauty in this natural heaven.
Except she couldn’t.
The dark shadows of the woods, the barren tree limbs, gnarled by weather and time, made her uncomfortable. The air itself carried a nervous warning, and goosebumps trailed her flesh.
She heard a cracking noise and glanced behind her. No one was there, and she told herself it was only a forest critter scurrying about. Trudging even deeper into the heart of the forest, Lacey tried to pay attention to her surroundings. The clusters of knotted bushes grew intense, but she trained her eyes around her, hoping to find any clues leading to Brian. She’d hoped for footprints, but with the recent downpour all marks would have been wiped clean. She decided to let her voice help.
“Brian?” she called out, her voice echoing in the woods like an eerie choir. “Brian, it’s Lacey! Are you hurt?”
A few minutes of silence went by, and she repeated her call. “Brian! Brian, can you hear me?”
The silence that met her grew deeper and more worrisome, and she wondered how a forest that should be teeming with life could be so quiet.
She felt eyes piercing through her, a glare following her every move, but every time she pivoted, expecting to find someone observing her, s
he found no one. With her heartbeat becoming more erratic, she appraised her situation. She hoped she hadn’t come too deep into the woods, and that she’d find her way out. Still, she continued on, reminding herself this was less about her fears, and more about finding Brian.
As she trekked on, the forest walls yielded to a wider opening, then revealed a large cave. Lacey approached the area carefully, noticing the rocks lining the way outside the abandoned cavern. The area sloped down as the ground caved in, and the cave’s entrance was a thin opening recessed into the ground.
Kneeling at the entrance, Lacey looked into the abyss of darkness. The sudden thought that Brian—either alive or dead—could be buried in there sent shivers down her spine. She glanced around to see more rocks piled about. This seemed to be an abandoned coal mine, a typical sight in Connecticut, and things seemed to add up. When she had been in Mary Sue’s shed, she’d noticed an antique pick hanging on the wall, the last name Davidson imprinted on the wooden handle. But why had the pick been hanging in the Collins’ shed?
Lacey dug her hand on the muddy ground, frustration growing. She craned her neck to try and explore the inside of the mine, wondering what animals may be lurking in its shadows. Only a dark void met her gaze and she pondered how she’d squeeze in there.
A flicker of white caught the corner of her eye, the subtle wind rustling something under a rock. She reached for it, realizing it was a piece of paper. It was covered in mud and some of the ink scribbles were smeared by dirt and washed out by the recent rain. Somehow, a few lines remained intact, together with the letterhead printed on the top of the page:
Crestwater Press.
Her heart tumbled to her feet as she realized she was looking at notes written by Brian himself. She brought the page closer to her eyes, frantically trying to decipher his words. She could only make out remnants of them, sporadically inked on the paper, and that was enough to freeze the blood in her veins.
Hiding…and cannot leave. 2330 Knotted Tree Ln. Faded pink dot.
Lacey read the words over and over, her breathing coming out in ragged breaths. Was Brian hiding? Was that what he meant when he wrote “cannot leave?” And whom did that address belong to? It surely sounded familiar.
She opened her mouth to scream his name again, but a huge shadow descended over her, cold and full of malice, before she felt an intense blow to the head that knocked her to her face and into a black oblivion.
Chapter Twenty
CASE #6 - ALONE IN THE WOODS
Present Day
“Lacey!” a voice I couldn’t identify called out to me, bringing me back to consciousness.
Opening my eyes, I saw a beautiful light blue sky partially obscured by the branches of trees looming over me. I felt wet and my head was throbbing. I moaned with pain as I sat up, groggy, and placed a hand on the back of my head. It came away sticky and I knew there would be blood before I saw it. Grossed out, I looked for something to wipe my hand on but ended up having to settle with using my jeans. I would be adding the cost of a new pair to my expense report to Mister Pert.
“Hello?” I called out to the voice that had awoken me, but was answered with only silence. What—or who—had hit me? I finally stood up and realized why I was wet. The ground was muddy, and I was completely caked in it.
Suddenly remembering the page I’d found from Brian’s journal, I began to scour the area. Did someone hit me just to take it? Why? The page wasn’t here, but about twenty feet away I did find an old rusty shovel. I picked it up, inspecting it, and found the Davidson logo burned into the wood of the handle.
And blood on the spade.
Okay, so this was what I’d been hit with, and for what? To steal a piece of paper with hardly anything on it? Frustration roiled in my belly. Raven Hills had far too many mysteries for my liking.
I was not prepared to give up my search for Brian yet, but I also wasn’t sure where I was. I pulled my phone from my pocket, hoping to use the GPS or compass to orient myself, but the screen was shattered. I pressed the home button, and nothing happened. I closed my eyes and counted, resisting the urge to throw the useless thing into a tree.
Now what? I was a city girl. A journalist. I didn’t know anything about wilderness survival. Vaguely I recalled something I’d read as a kid about going north if you were lost and that moss grew on the north side of trees. I inspected the trees around me but of course there was no moss on them.
“Lacey!” I heard the voice again and turned, thankful someone had found me here.
“Hello? Brian?” I questioned the empty forest as I turned full circle searching for who had called out to me. Hoping I wasn’t going as insane as Libby Kline—and determined to save myself and, hopefully, Brian—I picked a direction and started walking. As I walked the sky became gray and overcast, and the air was thick with humidity. “Brian! Brian, can you hear me?” I called for him and I stomped through the seemingly endless woods, snapping twigs as I went.
“BRIAN!” I yelled as loud as I could and stood silent, praying for a reply. Nothing. The forest was still eerily silent. Where were the birds, rabbits, and whatever else lived out here? Sighing, I continued walking and looking for signs of Brian, or…what might be left of Brian.
The wind kicked up, blowing around debris on the forest floor, and I regretted not tying my hair back before I’d left Saddle Inn as it flew into my face. I put my head down as I continued walking and saw a sheet of paper as it blew by. I chased it but was unable to grab it. It was then that the thunder rolled, and the sky opened up as it began pouring rain.
“Lacey!” I heard the voice again, as if it was being whispered in my ear. I felt hot breath on my neck. I turned. There was no one. I told myself not to freak out and to keep moving.
I tried to keep calling out for Brian, but eventually stopped, realizing there would be no way for him to hear me over the wind and rain. It was pretty dark now anyway, I was freezing cold, and I needed to get back to my room. I kept my head down and continued to move forward until I saw a small shadow blocking my way ahead. I squinted, trying to make out the shape.
Was it a cat?
Lightning flashed overhead, the bright light confirming it was a cat. It was kind of cute actually. Yellowish-brown fur with black spots. Poor thing, it looked as if someone had docked its tail. I moved forward slowly, my hand held out.
“Hey Kitty, you okay? You want to come with me? Here Kit—”
It growled deep in its throat, baring its teeth, and I jumped back with a yelp. It looked at me, yellow-green eyes glowing. What kind of demon cat was this? Its front half hunkered down, keeping eye contact and watching me. I grabbed a rock, pretty sure it would be useless if the cat decided to attack me, but not willing to go down without a fight.
“Lacey!” The voice was louder this time. Proving that I wasn’t going insane and the bodiless voice was not in my head, the cat spooked and ran off into the forest. I sighed, relieved that I wasn’t infected somehow by the crazy going around in the town. Yet, who was calling me? Where were they? Keeping my rock in my fist, I began walking again.
I was cold to my bones, and the storm didn’t seem like it was letting up anytime soon. As I went, I became more and more sure there was a presence behind me. I began to walk faster and faster, sure whoever had knocked me out with the shovel earlier had come back to finish me off.
Soon I was running. I desperately wanted to look behind me, but I didn’t want to slow down. In my terror, the branches of the trees seemed to turn into wooden arms with long, thin fingers that reached out for me. They grabbed my hair and clothes, trying to take pieces of me as I passed by them. I kept running even as those fingers clawed my skin and I felt the sting as the flesh on my cheek was opened. I dared to look behind me and thought I saw the shadow of a man, and my heart pounded with fear.
“Lacey!” The voice called to me again as another bolt of lightning lit up the forest and I saw Ginny up ahead, her arm held out pointing at something I couldn’t see. Then the
light faded and I couldn’t see her anymore.
Looking behind me, the shadow man, if he had really been there, was gone. I ran to where Ginny had been, but she must have been scared, too, and took off. I turned and went the direction she had been pointing, since maybe she’d meant for me to follow her.
I don’t know how long or far I ran, but eventually I had to stop and catch my breath. I realized I was still holding the rock in a death grip and let it fall to the ground with a small thud. I looked around hoping to see some trace of Ginny. She wasn’t even wearing a jacket; she must be as freezing cold as I was, I thought.
“Ginny? Ginny, it’s just me, Lacey! We can go home together!” I looked for her, but she was long gone. I grew terrified that someone who didn’t mind bashing others on the head was lurking in the woods with that sweet girl. I began walking again, hoping to find a way out of this hellish wood. A branch touched my shoulder and I screamed, my heart racing. A loud clap of thunder shook the ground and startled me again, and I tripped, further plastering myself with mud.
Looking back to see what I had tripped on, I saw the shadow man again, walking toward me. I tried to stand but my ankle was caught. I yanked my leg and whatever was holding me squeezed tighter.
Turning I looked and saw a tree root encircling my ankle. I tried to free myself but it seemed the more I struggled, the tighter it got. I took a deep breath and pulled my leg up as hard as I could, and then screamed because the root did not let me go. Confused I used my hands to try and pry the root from around me, but I wasn’t strong enough and it became tighter and tighter.
The shadow leaned over me then, and I looked up, ready to meet my fate.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lacey’s lids struggled to open, like heavy tents draping over watery eyes. Her head pounded with each body movement, but finally she regained consciousness.
Raven Hills- Unraveling Evil Page 8
